It’s the last day – Day 31 – of the series 31 Days of Lessons Learned from My 20’s! If you want to read all the posts in this series, you can find every post listed here. If you want to have all the posts delivered to your email inbox, subscribe here.

When I was about 23 years old I made a bold statement. Like most women, I knew I wanted children one day. So I said that if I’m not married by the time I’m 30, then I’m going to adopt a baby. 

Now there is absolutely nothing wrong with adopting a baby at 30 years old if that’s what God’s leading you to do. I actually knew a girl who did just that. But I didn’t make that statement because God was leading me in that direction. I made that statement because in my mind 30 was old. Not too old to have babies, but too old to not know for sure if I was going to.

I made that statement out of fear. 

Don’t let 30 scare you.

Right now I’m 37. Don’t ask me how that happened because my mind still thinks it’s 23, except that I like to think I’m a little more mature. I’ve lived long enough now to see that each decade seems to have its own space in your life – its own personality if you will.

In my 20’s I was desperately insecure. I was a “right now” kind-of thinker. I thought that if I didn’t do something to get it done, whatever “it” was, then my life wouldn’t turn out the way I wanted. I thought I had to make life happen. 

Then 30 rolled around. I still struggled, and still struggle, with these things sometimes, but something’s different.

I guess you could say I grew up. Or I got tired. Or I surrendered my life more to Jesus. I hope it’s the latter.

But regardless, my 30’s have been peaceful while at the same time gut-wrenchingly painful. Not the same kind of pain of my 20’s. Not fear or loneliness, but life-and-death pain. Like watching my husband lay on life-support and undergo a heart transplant. And seeing my mom turn white-headed from cancer in literally two months and eventually die at 54.

In my 30’s I’ve come to the end of myself.

When 30 hits and life continues, each year showing you how real it is and how broken we are and how it’s not ever going to be perfect, you realize life’s not about you and it’s harder than you think, and all you can say is “Jesus”.

I guess you can say that my eyes started to open to the deep places within myself. Some places that are good, by the grace of God, and some places that are rotten. But all places showing me that without Jesus I am nothing.

Your 20’s are a lot about what’s going on with your outward circumstances. Did you graduate college? Do you have a job? Are you staying pure in dating? Are you in the party crowd? Do you have a lot of friends? Are you dating someone? Are you getting married soon?

But your 30’s are when you start focusing inward. 

You would think that this would bring a lot of anxiety, but actually it has brought a lot of freedom. Freedom to be who I am in Christ. Freedom to focus on eternity and not right now. Freedom to lay it all down at the feet of Jesus.

And freedom brought peace. 

So don’t let 30 scare you. Even if you’re not where you want to be in life – if you’re not married, don’t have children, hate your job, tired of living alone. Instead, ask God to show you the deep places of your heart. And find freedom and peace there.

This ends the 31 Days series! I’m so happy you followed along with me! There were a few days I missed because of life, but I will fill them in to complete the series! You can read all of the posts here.  If you want to have all the posts delivered to your email inbox, subscribe here.

Are you afraid of turning 30? What scares you the most?

It’s day 29 of the series 31 Days of Lessons Learned from My 20’s. If you want to read all the posts in this series, you can find every post listed here. If you want to have all the posts delivered to your email inbox, subscribe here.

If you’ve studied child development at all, you know that young children go through a stage of development called egocentrism where they basically think they are the center of the world. Their rights are the only ones that matter. Their thoughts are the only ones that are valid. Their wants are on-demand.

I have to admit – there were many times in my 20’s that I acted like an egocentric child.

My life was planned out to the very year and month. Marriage, babies, career, homes, home decor, neighborhoods, activities, vacations, social engagements. All of it. I had built a life in my mind that I was determined to achieve. Quite frankly, creating this life became an idol. As my world spun around me, I made many bad choices. Choices that left scars and consequences and regrets.

Then in my late 20’s the world started to open up a little bit. Slowly I saw glimpses of a life bigger than me – a life not based on one I had conjured up in my mind. A life that God desired. A life that honored Him. One that brought Him glory.

The world is bigger than you.

For the first time I realized that the purpose of my life is not to bring me happiness. It’s not to create a fairytale with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids. It’s not about smocked baby clothes. It’s not about family portraits on the beach. It’s not about huge, themed birthday parties. It’s not about a dream home.

The purpose of my life is to love God, love others, and show His life within me to the world. Happiness is simply the joy that comes as a byproduct of living out this purpose.

I don’t think this is something only children and 20-somethings struggle with. In our world today, we are bombarded constantly with a “me mentality”. It’s so hard to keep on the belt of truth.

But friends, the truth is that the world is bigger than you. And it’s bigger than me. We are nothing more than pieces of a gigantic puzzle telling God’s story of redemption and grace. Today is a part of eternity.

I wish I had learned this sooner. And I use the word learned lightly.

Two years ago I went to Africa on a mission trip. It was my first mission trip. I begged God to not make me go. But He wouldn’t let my mind stop. The more I thought about it, the more I prayed about it, the faster my heart beat inside my chest. That’s always my clue that’s God’s speaking. So I went.

If you want to see a world bigger than you, go to Africa. Or go anywhere outside of your daily culture for that matter. Suddenly you will seem so small. So insignificant. You will feel such remorse for your life. Not because you’re not grateful. But because you are so blessed and yet you don’t even know it. 

I landed back in the United States on December 2nd. We had put up our Christmas tree before I left. I walked into our living room and turned to the left where the Christmas tree sat, presents already underneath. Sobs blubbered out of my mouth. Tears poured out of my eyes. My Compassion child’s hut was the size of one-fourth of the room I stood in. And there I was.

So, no, I haven’t learned this to completion. Most days I forget that the world is bigger than me. I forget about Africa. I forget about the neighbor across the street who blares his rap music with curse words. I forget about the homeless person I pass going to the grocery store. I forget about the young girl who just found out she is pregnant. I forget.

And instead I shop online for smocked clothes for my baby girl. 

Today ask God to open your mind to this world, this great big world that is His story, and give you perspective on your specific purpose in it. I’ll do the same.

What idol do you need to give up that keeps you in an egocentric mindset? 

It’s day 28 of the series 31 Days of Lessons Learned from My 20’s. If you want to read all the posts in this series, you can find every post listed here. If you want to have all the posts delivered to your email inbox, subscribe here.

I remember when I taught first-grade one of my little six-year-old students asked me one day where I slept. I looked at him perplexed and answered, “I sleep in my bed.” “But where’s your bed?” he replied as he looked around the room. I then realized he thought I slept at school.

To him my entire life was wrapped up in the walls of that school and the role in which He experienced me. He only saw me as a teacher.

I used to think the same thing about my parents.

It wasn’t so much that I thought my parents were only parents. I saw the other roles they filled as spouses and employees and siblings and friends and children to their parents.

But in my mind, their entire essence was confined to my existence. Before me there was nothing and without me there was nothing.

This made my expectations of them impossible. 

I knew my parents weren’t perfect. I knew they were human enough in that sense. But I thought that their love for me should trump all else. And if it didn’t? I assumed I wasn’t loved. 

For example, my mom was a smoker. I was one of those pretentious-type kids that came home and demanded my mom stop smoking because one day she would die from it – which she did three years ago. When she didn’t stop smoking, I came to the conclusion that she didn’t love me. After all, who would ever want to jeopardize the opportunity to live a healthy life with their children? Not to mention the negative effects it has on the children themselves. For many years, even into adulthood, my mind couldn’t wrap around the reasoning.

Then one day, I had a revelation. 

My parents are human and broken.

I was in my late 20’s, and from the outside looking in, I was an upstanding, morally dignified, successful person. I had two degrees. I supported myself. I had friendships. I served in the church. I prayed and studied the Bible. I loved Jesus so much. 

But on the inside I knew that despite all my “goodness” I was still rotten to the core if left to my own self. I struggled with insecurity and pride. I was haughty at times and judgemental. Cigarettes weren’t my drug but food was. I binge ate and then went for a seven mile run the next morning (A socially appropriate lifestyle, right?). 

I desperately wanted to figure out what this is inside me that makes me yearn for God and in the same breath do the exact opposite of what I want to do (Romans 7:15).

My conclusion?

I am broken. Without Jesus I am nothing.

And so are my parents. 

Life didn’t start for my parents the moment I was born. There was a lifetime before me that shaped them. Some of it was good. Some of it was bad. But regardless they struggle just like everyone else. Just like me. 

And so there is grace. 

When I came to my own brokeness and need for grace, I could much more quickly extend grace to my parents. Grace doesn’t condone actions or make sin “right”. Grace just recognizes that just like me, they’re broken too. They’re in need of Jesus, too. And so like Jesus, I can offer grace to them. 

Is it hard for you to offer grace to your parents? Why or why not?