It snuck up on me, really and truly. It hit me all of the sudden, while Joe and I were running errands last weekend.
I love this life. This life right here, right now, with Joe, in Baltimore. My life.
I’ve always had a hard time putting roots in places, something about switching houses every two days until I was eighteen, I suppose. I have felt a lot of joy in my temporary places, but never settled. And it’s not exactly that I feel settled here, per say, but that I love where I’m at here.
I am twenty-three and a half years old. I am very happily married to my college sweetheart. I am invested in my church community and my friends here. I am working every single day to make my words more pure, honest, and kind. I am fighting a winning battle with my insecurities.
My life here isn’t perfect. It’s incredibly far from it, and yet, it brings me more happiness than I’ve found, perhaps, in any place. If we’re being honest (and aren’t we always?) I feel certain that the Lord will place trials before me, but I’m not entirely sure that he will bless me. And the more I read, I’ve come to think that trials and blessings are one in the same, and in fact, that God has been blessing me all along. Baltimore, this corner of my life, has given me the clarity to see it:
that my life is blessed because it is not perfect, that out of the wreckage and the hard things that I am being refined and made holy, and that there is just so much beauty to be found in a life well lived.