Why Growing Up is the Worst, but Why I Do it Anyways

I like to consider this season of life as the one in which I grow up and become an adult. I like to think and hope and pray that all of this transition is going to lead to something.

But really this transition time is hard. It's strange and no transition has been quite like this one.

Learning to buy a car in this season of life is like having your eyeballs plucked out.

For some reason going to grocery store feels like your are climbing a really big mountain.

Buying a comforter feels like it has a really lasting significance and I could never make the right decision.

Waking up before the sun rises is less than ideal.

Making a budget seems ridiculous and so incredibly necessary, but also impossible.

And now there's no end in sight to this life in Colorado. Since I was a little one, there was an end date, but now my home is Colorado until the Lord moves me else where.

Thus, growing up is the worst. 

...Now I know that is way overdramatic and I don't mean it in a literal sense... It's just the lie Satan has been consistently whispering in my ear since my internship ended.

I am afraid that I am going to fail at being an adult. I am afraid that I will make the wrong decision or buy the wrong thing and then everyone will think that I have failed as an adult.

But in the end I am choosing to grow up anyways. I am choosing to because I know that those thoughts are all just lies. I can't fail at being an adult. And ultimately, this life here is absolutely nothing about me. It's not about the car I drive, the job I have, how well I spend my money, or how "good" I am at being an adult.

It's about Jesus. It's about bringing glory to His name. It's about realizing that nothing on this earth will ever be enough. It's about clinging to hope in eternity. And it's about coming home.

Home for so long has meant North Carolina. And to define it now seems a little more difficult. Most of my plane flights end in Denver and my license plate represents the colorful state, which may just mean that Colorado is home.

But ultimately my home is in the loving arms of the Father. It is "the center of my being where I can hear the voice that says: 'You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests'---the same voice that gave life to the first Adam and spoke to Jesus, the second Adam; the same voice that speaks to all the children of God and sets them free to live in the midst of a dark world while remaining in the light" (Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son).

And I haven't been doing the best job in resting in that home. I've been so busy worrying about being an adult that the days have seemed daunting and dissatisfaction has been all I've known.

But that tender, still small voice is reminding me that it's time to come home. And it's time to walk through this season of transition and learning with Him by my side. And it's time to kneel at His feet. For...

It is the place of light, the place of truth, the place of love. It is the place where I so much want to be, but am so fearful of being. It is the place where I will receive all I desire, all that I ever hoped for, all that I will ever need, but it is also the place where I have to let go of all I most want to hold on to. It is the place that confronts me with the face that truly accepting love, forgiveness, and healing is often much harder than giving it. It is the place beyond earning, deserving, or rewarding. It is the place of surrender and complete trust.

-Henri Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son