I've had a lot on my mind lately.  A lot of uncomfortable things prodding at my mind, my heart, my esophagus.  Since as far back as I can recall, I've always been one of those who thinks about dying.  Not just in a morbid, terrified way.  I just think about it.  I'm not altogether convinced I won't die somewhat young.  (Family, take a deep breath.)  I don't have any reason to think I will die young.  And I definitely hope to live a long, long time.  But I think about it. I remember being 5 or 6 and thinking about it.  I wonder how it will affect my family and friends.  I worry some.  I pray.  And the past month I've thought about it a lot more than normal. 

I've realized that 24 is a big year.  It's not just me who began asking a lot of questions and really evaluating at 24.  I'm realizing a lot of my friends have/are.  My sister said the same thing is true of 29 she heard - especially for women.  I think it's that "time before" when we stop and take role.  We realize we're about to be in that age we've seen far off for many years, and we wonder if we are who we thought we'd be.  It's a pretty safe bet to say we're not.  And then we determine where we are okay with that, where we're grateful for that, and where we're not okay and want to grow.  It's a big year of growing.  And as I entered my last month of 24 this December, I feel like I got the big exam to see if I was going to be admitted into the class of 25 or not.

My main question through it all has been, Does my life still hold more potential than my death?  That sounds ridiculous, but wait a moment.  When young people in our lives pass away, it hits us all to the core.  I think there is so much possibility and potential and hope bound up in them, that when they die it explodes in the worlds they're leaving.  We miss the older people in our lives as they pass away as well.  It breaks out hearts.  But there is something about a young person passing away that changes everyone it touches.  And it had me thinking about what would happen if I died young and how deeply I know it would affect people.  And I asked myself, Could me living affect them even more?  The question eventually formed into the one at the start of this paragraph.  And that question has been haunting me ever since, Does my life hold more potential than my death?  Does it hold more power?   I want it to.  I want to live that way.  Gosh, I want to really live!  And that has been part of what's been propelling me lately to take risks, to make choices, to say things, to love, to move on, to forgive and forgive and forgive.  And even to cry.  And THANK GOD for that in my life right now, because this has been a month of real decisions.  Of change in direction.  Of change in perspective.  Of change in my capacity of courage.  

I think there's a reason a lot of us our age have this growing desire to be risk-takers, to be courageous, to be brave with our lives, and why we think about death.  The baby-boomers and those before us saw medicine lengthening people's lives.  We've grown up seeing people die of AIDS, get cancer, die in car crashes, etc.  We've lost friends before graduation.  We know we won't be here forever.  We know medicine and technology can't give us immortality.  And some of us have even been raised with the suspicion that ours might really be the blessed generation to see the day so many have longed for.  I don't know.  I just know we need courage.  I know we don't need to be babied, coddled, or spoon-fed.  I know we're no longer children.


***With all this in my head - I'm now just starting The Hunger Games, and oh gosh, I'm a bit concerned by how much this book might pierce right to my vulnerable core.  An aptly-read book can shape and frame us.***

This is probably one of the most incredible pictures I've seen. My first thought was, I'm going to do that on my wedding day. It seriously didn't strike me until just now, about an hour later, that neither of my grandmothers will be at my wedding. And that, that makes my eyes fill up with tears that quickly, surprises me. My mom's mom passed away when I was still a baby and yet because of how much my mom has shared with us all about her, I don't really realize that I never knew her. I feel as if I do know her, I still know her. And my Dad's mom passed away when I was about 12 I think. I knew her, and wish I'd known her more, and known her in her earlier years. My parents love and honor their parents, but still in so many ways they've been the "firsts" or "seconds." They're first generation Christians, and that changes everything to begin with, but there's much more than that. They're building generationally and parenting in ways their parents just never did. I'm excited for my children to one day know their grandparents.  Normally it doesn't get to me too bad, but still, there's times my heart aches for my grandma to be near, to know life in a generational way that I don't. To have a photo of my hand, my mother's, and my grandmother's, to have a symbol of the wives we've been and the families we've cared for. I'm so grateful for my mom, for all she's fought to learn and change. For how she's honored her mom, and transported her character into her daughters' lives and hearts. And for how she's added to the legacy by forgiving, growing, and learning many things as she goes. You're really remarkable mom.  

Our generation doesn't know how to do anything for the long haul,
is it any surprise we don't think marriage is worth it? Why pretend?
When we mostly just see marriages end.
And time means trouble,
And trouble means war,
And war is pain.

So why pretend? Why buy rings, or just cheap rings that stain?
And why sign names, when changing them back brings more shame?

I believe in love, and fighting, and marriage. And I believe in signing names. And changing names. And changing diapers.

But even me, have I trained myself to stay for ever? Have I done so intentionally? Can I hold on when it hurts? Can I let go of what doesn't matter? Can I forgive and really forget? Do I know how to love every day, forever?

I think my most common question for my children will be "Why?"   Why do you like that?  Why do you want that?  I can only imagine it will be hard for me to watch my children fall into trends and chase after fashions.  Unless, they can give me a good answer to Why.

If you can't answer why, I think there's a good chance you aren't doing something because it's meaningful or impacting or making you become more of who you are... but because it's popular and common.  This thought process has me wondering though:

How much do our trends say about our generation? Do they reflect a value system?  Maybe subtle, or not... I don't have an answer.  I just started processing the question.  Why are tattoos a trend?  Maybe it's just because it's cool, but maybe if we asked enough people "Why?" we might actually discover a theme of values... something our generation has ingrained in our fibre that makes us drawn to them, to their honesty, their permanency, their commitment.  Maybe? 

What other trends do we have - and do you think they suggest certain values or character traits? Good or bad.