It IS My Birthday, and Don't Call Me Shorty

My friend Lee said that 26 was the most depressing birthday he ever had.

The thing is, most people look at 26 as the back side of one's twenties. It's the time when you do a bit of evaluation. It's the time when you start to think about what other people have accomplished by this point in their lives and where you measure up. Have I done everything I wanted to do? Achieved or contributed something? Is it really gonna get any better from here on out? For most people, it's the time where they realize that their answer to most of those questions is no. They haven't done enough, seen enough, risked enough, but heck, I'M 26 NOW! There's no sense in trying to start something now. I might as well already be 30!

I understand the perspective. I really do. The whole quarter-life crisis phenomenon is a familiar static in the background of my life. What if I had started writing music earlier? What if I had majored in something else? What if I had moved to Nashville or New York or somewhere? But I think the gift that God gave me this year, the thing He decided I needed above all other things, is promise.

Funny, it took me a few minutes to decide what word I wanted to use. I typed contentment, hope, satisfaction, self-assurance, optimism, but I think promise makes the most sense. It kinda works on two levels. One, there's a lot of promise in the future for Karri and I. We're excited about travel. We're excited about working for justice in the world. I'm excited about making music and starting a habit of creation. I'm excited about the wide open possibilities we're faced with in the months and years to come. And second, there's a promise that Karri and I rest on every day. And that's the promise that He's with us.

I've been thinking about the Great Commission lately, and how much encouragement that must have given the disciples at that time. I mean, they had pretty much jettisoned their hopes of a world-changing movement when Jesus was crucified. They had given up any hope of being a part of a movement that could change the world. So when the resurrected Jesus called them together and said, "Therefore go," I imagine there was a bit of apprehension. They had given up without Jesus. Given up on the movement, given up on hope, given up on the chance that the world could get better. And now Jesus was leaving, and he wanted them to stick it out. But Jesus closed the call with, "And surely I am with you always." As if to say, "It's alright, guys. Stick your necks out again. Risk away. Pick up those crosses again. I'm not going anywhere. Fear not."

Seems like God spends a lot of time telling people to "Fear Not."

So at 26, I've got some promise. Sure, sometimes I see Kobe Bryant and think, "Why haven't I signed a multi-million dollar contract yet?" But I've got plenty. I've got a beautiful wife who I'm crazy for. I've got a family that loves me. I've got music. I've got a purpose and a calling that will push me into the world. And I've got a rabbi who believes in me and isn't going anywhere. I'll take that as a birthday present.

I got an iPod for Christmas, anyways. (THANKS MOM!!!!!!!!!)