To whom it may concern

The following is a letter I wrote to myself on my fortieth birthday.

Dear, Stephanie.

Congratulations, my friend! And let me just go ahead and say I know those aren't words you expected to hear from yourself. I know you weren't expecting to be happy about this day, but it is here and you are alive. So congratulations! And I know you haven't always considered us friends, but we are. It's you and me, kid. From here on out. I'm your best friend. Get used to it.

You've learned a lot these past forty years. And while it is information that will serve you well in the rest of your years, it is the past. You've made a lot of mistakes and some poor choices, but we aren't going to talk about that. Water under the bridge, my friend. Let it go.

 A teacher asked you repeatedly yesterday, "What do you want?" That's a very good question. And I think this is a great place to start when you stand at the threshold of a new decade. It is time to get specific. And for all of your talk about living with intention, it is time to start walking that out. Let's make this a year of specifics.

I love you. I think you need to hear that more. Say it more. And say it without conditions. You are beautiful. Say that, too. Your worth is in more than what other people think of you. Be yourself. Quiet. Listen. Hear that?  Remember? That's the beat only you can hear. Walk to that one. You'll have more fun.

You are courageous. That is one of the best things about you. You stand up for people. But sometimes you forget to stand up for yourself. Let's start doing that. You speak Truth, Life, and Love into other people all the time. But you withhold those words from yourself. Speak up. That is the root of your own integrity.

Dance and sing more. Read poetry aloud because you know words dance, too. Don't be ashamed of your mind. Or your heart. Laugh more often because it is true what people say, you have the best laugh. You are a healer. People tell you this. Believe it and start speaking healing over yourself daily. Hourly. Minute-by-minute when necessary.

Remember that poem you love? You know, the one by Mary Oliver. Here's your favorite part, the very end: Tell me, what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

My friend, ask yourself this today and everyday from now on. The words from the end of a poem hold the key to your new beginning.

Love,
Me
 

Yearly Evaluations

I turned thirty-nine yesterday. I have never been a fan of birthdays that end with the number nine so needless to say, I was dreading this one. I just don't like the idea of teetering on the end of a decade. I'd rather just jump in to the new one.

The sense of dread was probably compounded by the fact that I just don't think thirty-eight was my finest year. I worked hard and took care of a lot of people I love who needed to be taken care of, but in the mix of things, I lost myself a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit. And I let myself get a little knocked around by life, circumstances, and other peoples' words, attitudes, and judgment. I became fearful and burdened. That's just not like me. Or at least that's what God reminded me when I finally got around to bringing this all up with Him.

So here's the deal. I've done a little evaluating and in the process, realized some truths. My thirties have been pretty good. They were significantly better than my twenties so that alone makes them great. I did a lot of stuff I wanted to do and started a few things I want to finish. I had one great career and then took the chance and started a new one, I started grad school, and ran a marathon. I learned some hard lessons that are making me a better person. I reordered my priorities. I built some stuff, but I'm still tearing down some walls. I have one year left to end this decade on a high note.

This year is going to look a little different than last year. I am going to take a vacation. And there will be water and/or mountains involved. I am going to dance. Because I really like to dance. And sing. I am going to stop waiting for apologies that may not ever come and I will continue to try to always apologize immediately if I hurt someone. I am going to continue to share my heart with people because I really think that is the best thing I have going for me. I'm going to laugh more. And love the people God has given me to love. I'm going to stop wishing. I'm going to say the things I need to say and speak those words with as much genuine kindness as I can possibly muster (ask Megan about Fiddler on the Roof sometime). I'm going to write more because I'm pretty sure that's the second best thing I have going for me. And I haven't figured out what it is yet, but I'm going to do that thing that makes me look back and say "Remember when I was thirty-nine...."