10 years ago I walked across a stage and accepted my “diploma” (the real one came in the mail a few weeks later) and threw my hat in the air. My friends and I went to the school sponsored graduation party and as we hugged goodbye in our sleep deprived state the next morning I had no idea that I wouldn’t see the majority of them until our 10 year reunion….which is tonight. I’ve heard that 10 year reunions can cause a lot of stress for people…like they’re regressing to their identity back in high school…what will people think of me now? I have to admit that thought has crossed my mind…for a second, but only a second. I have spent time thinking about what I’m going to wear! My bet is that I’m going to end up in a pair of jeans with a rubber band, a long shirt to hide it and some type of sandal…although along the way I’m sure that every outfit that remotely fits me will end up in a pile on my bed and my husband will get frustrated and eventually just leave the room. Rather than worrying about what people will think of me tonight I’ve spent more time working out the logistics of a baby sitter and a back up plan, how to pick my husband up at work at 4:45 and make it to Green Cove by 7. And I’ve also been thinking about the last decade…..decade, that word sounds so huge, like such a solid piece of time.
History is marked by decades. The Roaring ’20’s. The ’50’s Housewife. The Rebellious ’60’s.
The first decade of my adult life.
If you had asked me the night that I graduated what I was going to do this would have been my answer: 2 years at community college then go to Oral Roberts University, then marry Rob, then I was going to move to Detroit and teach inner city kids for the rest of my life and probably begin having children around age 25.
What happened instead:
I went to Scotland, I started college, loaded up my car with all of my belongings and my golden cocker spaniel Bubba and moved into my very first apartment, spent a summer in PA as a camp counselor, learned what it was to have a broken heart, packed all my stuff back up and moved back into my parents house, packed all my stuff up and moved to Gainesville, went to Michigan for one summer as a camp counselor, came home, gave all my stuff away, packed 2 suitcases and moved up to Michigan, learned what it meant to seek after Jesus, fell in love with Jesus, learned what it was to have my heart healed, fell in love with Michigan, kids from Detroit, apple orchards, fall, and SNOW, finished the internship and packed up all my stuff and moved home…again…started school…again, met some great people and joined a campus ministry called Salt Tribe, went to Africa, loaded all my stuff up and moved into another apartment, worked 2 jobs, took a full load of classes and helped run the ministry, had my life crumble to pieces all around me, dedicated a year to healing and being restored, went back to Michigan, came back home, finished school (that’s a total of 8 years….the entire time Bush was in office) started the job hunt, got my first “corporate” job, met Brad, dated Brad, married Brad (that’s a total of 3 months), married Brad again (the official wedding after we eloped), got pregnant, celebrated my first anniversary, had a baby, quit my job….
and that’s it. that’s my decade in a paragraph.
I never married Rob (thank God)
I never went to Oral Roberts (thank God)
I didn’t become a teacher….hopefully I still will
I wasn’t a mother at 25 (thank GOD!!!!!!!!!!)
I couldn’t be happier. My life is exactly perfect. I wouldn’t change a single thing….and that’s a great feeling. So bring on the reunion! It’s been a decade worth celebrating!