Old.

  I didn't really realize how much of a complex I have about aging until about the last couple of weeks or so.  My trusty friends pointed out that I have been talking a lot about age, and you know?  They're right.  I have been.  I'm hung up on it because I am getting older.  Haha, and so are they.  I turn 25 in exactly four months to the day.  February 9th.  1987.  (Good year.)  I had this goal for myself that I was going to write in this space everyday of October, leading up to that fateful day where I got to ride in an ambulance.  Good follow-through, huh. 

This week, I feel like the word "trust" has been on the forefront of my mind, and on the tip of my tongue.  I have had a lot of opportunities to share what I've learned from my God over the last year.  Ironically (or not so ironically), it's what we talked about in church this morning.  Trust.  And, I'm pretty sure our dear pastor dove into trust in the midst of suffering.  (And this is not to say that I have any real comprehension of how to trust God in the midst of suffering, but it definitely hit a raw nerve.)

Jesus, right after Judas had betrayed him, but before he was ripped away like a criminal, from his disciples (the ones he loved), said this, "Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God, trust also in me.  In my Father's house there are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you."

The part that is funny to me is that Jesus knows what's about to go down.  Judas (someone who served alongside of Jesus, and someone Jesus loved and trusted) made the decision to betray.  To betray what he knew was good and right.  And Jesus is here, speaking peace not to himself, but to his disciples!  "Do not let your hearts be troubled."

What I've found myself wondering is if I really trust the Lord with my age. 

Mark Twain once said, and I'll never forget this, "Age is an issue of mind over matter.  If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."  

Well, Mark Twain.  Here's my question for you: what if it does matter?  What if you are staring down at a major milestone in life, and all of sudden it matters.  A lot.  Hmmm?  What if your age matters?  What if YOU were going to be a QUARTER OF A CENTURY OLD?  Yeah.  Uh-huh, twenty-five.  What now, Mark Twain?  What now.  Ugh.  

I hate it that it is bothering me this much, that I really could be that vain and worrisome over something as silly as a number.  Which, by the way, other people place emphasis on, not God.  The pressure comes from myself, and what I allow to influence my way of thinking.  Man!  I'm feeling the pressure!  Grrrrr!

People are born every day, and people die every day, and you know what?  People break their legs every day.  People ride in ambulances everyday.  People go to physical therapy every day.  People get casts taken of everyday.  Just ask Rosa, the wonderful cast lady that I get to see tomorrow, who puts on like 28 casts PER DAY.  Nothing that I have experienced in the last year is new.  None of it. 

In fact, people get life-long illnesses everyday, and find out that they have cancer everyday, and not only fall great distances but are paralyzed.  Everyday!  This happens.  Some of those same people cry everyday, wishing that they could actually sleep well for one night, but their medicines give them nightmares and make them itchy, and make all their hair fall out, and they don't know if they're ever going to see their kids or parents again.  Everyday.  

Every single day.  

Someone enters the world and starts breathing, and someone stops.  At one point in my life I would have said that this was beautiful, a part of the "rhythm of life".  No.  It sucks.


Before you start shaking your head at me, or call me "intense", or think that I've been watching too much Lie To Me or Bones, or that I take life too seriously (I don't, I promise I laugh - I spent much of this weekend laughing & celebrating.  And DANCING....) I will have you know that this is reality.  

So, take a deep breath, and know that I'm not always this intense.  Just right now.  And...maybe when I DANCED.  That was a little intense.

This is a reality that I am learning more about because guess what?  I'm only 24.  I am learning about realities of the world which I have refused to face for the last 24 years.  Realities that I haven't been able to face because of the development of my brain, and the maturity of my heart.  Realities that I just didn't want to see.  Realities that come because they are built on top of other realities and are all tangled up in one realityweb.  

God knows what we are able to bear.  He knows how much we can handle.  He has been so gentle with me, with my faint heart, and my ignorant and oh-so-sensitive soul.  There is no other place that I know of where I can release these things, surrender all, and know deep down that they will be safe.  He has lead me into the wilderness, but he has not abandoned me.  If it were not so, he would have told me.

He has not abandoned you.  He has not abandoned us.  He has not abandoned the people that are currently receiving the news mentioned above.  He has not abandoned the very people in the same exact room that I occupied at Froetdert, or in the trauma unit where I could hear people screaming in pain across my hall.  He has not abandoned us.

I find myself so emotional this evening, partly because it's October, and there is this weird stigma attached to it these days.  The smell in the air, and the colors that draw me into the presence of my Creator.  It's not tainted, but there is this weird feeling.  I'm nostalgic at heart, and I have thought a lot about what's happened in the last year.  Part of my emotional vomiting is because my heart is so full, and I am so thankful for the experiences I've had.  For the friends and families that have walked (and wheeled) alongside of me.

Above all else, I am thankful this evening for a God who has displayed (and is displaying, and will always display) his wonderful love and beauty to not only me, but to the world.  The song of a different season is being sung, and I can't help but tap my toes, and sing along.  The trees keep perfect time - they are on fire.

I have my last doctor's appointment tomorrow.  It's been a year.  And, I'm freaking out.  I thought I would be able to just be cool about it.  Calm, cool, and collective.  But, in true Catie-style, I desire coolness and am left lacking.  So.

This is where I am.  This is where I am at this moment, in this day.  Heck, tomorrow I'll probably be in a completely different place, but thank you for allowing me to share where I'm at.  

I am going to end this blog this month.  Not today, but soon.  Who knows who's even reading it...(I'm pretty sure that my giant poop story was a topic of discussion at a wedding last night...), but thank you for allowing me to share some of my joys with you.  Some of my burden, some of my discovery.  Thank you for reading.  And listening.  Not only to me, but to Him.  I hope his voice is louder than mine.  

Or softer.  Whichever speaks to you, wherever you are at.