Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The dirty thirty.
What to think? What to think? What to think?
So, folks today I've officially been breathing oxygen for 30 straight years.
Man, I'm no longer in my twenties. What do I make of this? I've been bracing myself for this day now for a while. About 2 years ago, I reluctantly started disclosing my age only to people I like. The less fortunate received a, "Well, how old do you think I am?" which I never confirmed but left to mystery. It's my way of manipulating people's interest in me. Still, I often reply with a foggy, "Hm. Interesting. Yeah, I'm in my twenties. Good guess." I leave the rest to rumor and judgmentalism. To this day, most people guess early twenties by physical profile alone, and I have to admit, I'm usually flattered. In all honesty, I think I've aged well in comparison to most of my peers, and even some younger. I still have a full head of hair. I'm not graying. My metabolism hasn't shown signs of disinterest. I still work out and have some definition. And no signs of wrinkles just yet. I honestly look and feel younger than my birth certificate would accuse. Usually when I tell people my true age, they are like, "No way! I totally would've guessed..." blah, blah, blah. However, those comment doesn't always encourage. It leads to a lot of introspection for me to hear that I look (and sometimes act) like a 24-year old.
But, 'tis true. I've been around the sun 30 times. It's still hot.
Now, what most people wrestle with (including myself) around this time are age-appropriate roles and expectations. I'm 30, so there are those out there who would expect that I should be well into marriage, well into children, and well into an established full-time job--doing the things "adults" do while suggesting those who do otherwise are immature, selfish, and flighty. Others would suggest that I'm just getting started--that 30 is the new 20. I should be traveling. I should be single and unhindered from doing exactly what I want to do. Full-time jobs? Own a home? Marriage? That's so yester-generation. The former describe the latter as "kidults" or "adultlescants," who are unwilling to grow up and take on true responsibility; to which the latter respond by employing terms like "traditional" and "old-fashioned" to describe folks who appear to still be trapped in the 50s. We live in a different era with different age, gender, and overall life expectations, they say. Get over it.
Suits and ties and houses and families vs. cardigans and Toms and apartments and roomies.
In reality it's both. We do live in different times, and just because someone in their late 20s/early 30s doesn't own a home or isn't married with kids doesn't necessarily mean they are being irresponsible or childish--but it might. These factors don't always indicate someone's competency or desire to take on responsibility as a mature adult--but sometimes they do. Sure, we live in a culture that prolongs adolescence. Sure, more times than not there are ideological and moral pitfalls that are clearly associated with this "new adulthood." And the same is true for the "old adulthood." At the end of the day, it's really case-by-case. Some people need to seriously grow up, get married, buy a house, and have kids--if they can. Other people need to seriously grow up and buy a hookah and some flannel. At 30, my heart is certainly ready to start living out some of those traditional expectations, yet there's no way I'm trading my Toms for dress shoes.
All that to say, these are but one of the things I think about on my 10,950th day alive. In a lot of ways, I do feel like I'm just getting started. It does seem, at least for me, that in my 30s I'll learn a lot of things I should've learned in my 20s. The bottom line is that I can't wait for this new decade known as the "dirty thirties." Wish me luck. If as much happens in my 30s as did in my 20s, I'm pretty confident that I'll look back in gratitude for the way the Lord has ordained my steps (Prov. 20:24). Amidst all the messiness of my life as of late, the one thing is certain: whether you're in your 20s, 30s, 40s, or 50s, there's no such thing as plan B with God.
Deep breath. Time to go get a job.
Put here by Eron at 12:14 PM
Friday, September 16, 2011
See Pat Robertson's comments on how Alzheimer's can justify divorce--here.
Now see Dr. Russell Moore's response:
Now see Dr. Russell Moore's response:
Put here by Eron at 7:51 PM