Becoming Grownup (First Anniversary Reflections)

A year has passed. One year, and so many moments of deciding that I am not ready to be a grownup. I wouldn't hinder it, and I wouldn't give up the blessings. But I still don't feel ready. I have learned that

1. The times when I know just how much I love someone are often the times when I am incredibly frustrated, either because of them or in their behalf. Because then I realize how much it hurts to see them in error when I want so badly for them to reach their utmost potential, and how much I would give to heal the ache in their eyes.

2. Some nights, even a grownup just wants mommy.

3. Westley was right—life IS pain. Humans are too faulty and love is too strong for it to be anything else. I am just beginning to understand how blissfully ignorant I was as a little girl of the hurts in the world—how often friends slip away, couples tear apart, and invisible walls grow like weeds.

4. Some days, dropping a stick of butter feels like the end of the world.

5. Being in charge of a household (or being the wife of the one in charge) is a lot scarier than being a child in one. It's like sitting on the bumper when before, you always got the booster in the back seat. You sketched out a map before you left, but it blew away...there's a drop-off on one side...and who (or Who) is standing on that gas pedal...?

But as I said in the beginning...I wouldn't give up the blessings. I have also learned that

1. Contrary to my expectations (due to a remark once made by one of my parents about their early years), not every couple hates each other the first year of marriage. I won't say I never lose touch with the fluttery side of things, but there you have it. I like him.

2. Husbands will hug you as tightly as you want whenever you need it. And they will startle you by (really truly) thinking you're gorgeous on your most nightmarish hair days.

3. The movement of new life inside me...it's just one of the best feelings in the whole world. It panics me every now and then with its vastness of implications, but I am learning a different sort of love than I ever knew before, and it gives me joy.

4. I may not write quite so many long letters and emails...but my loving friends always seem to be there, ready to challenge and comfort me as ever.

5. God never fails to love me more than I understand. I constantly fall short of honoring His love (I can't nearly say I try my best, even), however, I'm trying to at least merit the description 'a work in progress.'

These lessons perhaps make my life sound more sobering than it has been. Really, it's beautiful, and I wouldn't switch places with anyone on earth. My trials have been very petty so far, and when I'm not crying (pregnancy hormones, anyone?) I'm laughing at my foolishness. But I can only imagine the fright of a newborn baby as it emerges into the atmosphere we call normality. I am a baby grown-up, and the world is too big and too bright. Just give me time. I'm still a little scared.