Twenty-seven. Feels old when I say it. I know in my brain that 27 is not old at all, especially considering I had myself convinced most of this year that I was turning 28 on this birthday. But now I can say I am in my late twenties, instead of merely in my mid-twenties. Weird.
My generation has often been called “boomerang” children – we leave the nest for college/job/running away/exploration and adventure/whatever we feel like, and then return home at some point in our twenties to live at home once again. Most do it out of economic necessity, or because of a crisis or situation that renders home the best place to be. I always claimed that I was never going to be a boomerang child. That once I was out, I was out to stay. Well, never say never, I suppose, because here as my 27th birthday comes to a close, I find myself firmly ensconced in the basement of my parents’ house.
Growing up I envisioned a very different life. This is not exactly where I thought I would be at this point, yet at the same time I am utterly convinced that this is exactly where I am supposed to be. Back living at home, pursuing a dream that has been on my heart for 10+ years. This life I have been given has been an adventure filled with many twists that I never saw coming, including leaving staff with Cru to pursue going to a country in Southeast Asia I had heard very little of until last summer!
It is kind of fun starting a new chapter on my birthday. New (old) home, new job, new church, etc. It feels fresh, full of hope, burgeoning with anticipation of all the good things the next twelve months will hold. I’m sure there will be hard times, and disappointments, and struggles, just like always. But there is also a new hope (yes, that was a deliberate Star Wars reference, and yes, I know I am a nerd) growing. I am standing on the edge of a cliff, about to jump, with no idea what is waiting for me at the bottom.
Ready? Set? Go!!!!