I turned thirty last January. As far as birthdays go, it was kind of lame. I had a brand new baby, twin toddlers and Caleb to hang out with. Ricky worked a twelve hour day and then we went out to dinner. I'm not complaining (okay, maybe I'm complaining a little), but it really just wasn't the big deal that I guess it's supposed to be. Big Stuff's supposed to happen when you're thirty, right? I mean that's when Jesus started His ministry and everything.... I'd say that's Big Stuff. David became king at thirty, more Big Stuff. I'm no Jesus or King David, but I'm a girl that longs for the Big Stuff in my life.
Ricky and I have been talking a lot about the "American Dream" lately. I mean, what is that now anyway? Is it still having a couple of kids and living all safe and snug in the suburbs? Because without really trying, Ricky and I are surprisingly dangerously close to that "Dream" life. And that totally freaks me out. I'm not opposed to houses, suburbs or safety- but that life seems very at odds with the Big Stuff that our souls are just crying out for in Jesus. Big Stuff like denying ourselves to follow Jesus- forsaking everything else in the world in the pursuit of our King. I'm passionate when I highlight those passages in my Bible, but is that where it stops?
I don't want to stop at being a passionate highlighter. I want to be as close to my King and His throne of grace as I can be on this earth. I desperately want that to be our American Dream.
I think that turning thirty has made the danger of settling for less in life that much more real. I mean when we were twenty and just newly married babes, what did we have to lay down? We didn't have any cash, career, reputation, health benefits, retirement savings or security anyway, we just had a lot of excitement and passion. But now..... I mean we still don't have any cash, but the other stuff is there. It's much harder to lay junk down when you actually have it. Throw in four precious little kids, and it's impossibly easy to let them become your excuses to avoid the rough edges of society that Jesus came and died for. Jesus touched lepers, but I will stroll my sweet Baby Jogger City Mini as fast as it'll go when there are (gasp) homeless people on the corner.
Man, being honest with yourself sucks.
All of that to say, I don't know if Denver is our last stop. I don't know if Ricky's always going to be a truck driver. All I know is that we want the kind of heart-pumping, breath-taking, battle-crying life with Jesus that he wants for us. Like when you're sitting in the movie theater watching Narnia or Lord of The Rings and it's all you can do to just sit quietly in your seat, because in your heart you're swinging some gnarly axe or sword and just ripping the enemies guts out and shouting some awesome victory cry. Where is that happening? Because (in the words of Liz Lemon), "I want to go to there."