On life
January is a month of birthdays. Now I shall not even attempt to list down all the birthday boys and girls lest I miss out a name or two and offend people, lol. In not too many days, I will be turning 22 myself and my word, isn't 22 such a horrible-sounding number??? Too-when-tee-too. It's in a completely separate category altogether from sophisticated 21, sassy 20, spunky 18, sweet 16, and all those other long-gone teenage years. 22 is just- well it's just plain 22. Old. Stuffy. 'Mature'.
To be honest I don't feel one bit 22, nor look it, I suspect. When I look at my lab demonstrator James who's a postgrad in IC, observe the way he speaks, the way he teaches, his confident way about things and all the knowledge and experience he evidently has - and him being only two or three years older than me - I just shrink away feeling inferior. And unworthy, in a sense, of being called an adult. I clearly remember, one fine day about two months ago, I told a friend that I felt comfortable where I was, being a twenty-one year old girl/woman, and that I didn't feel the need to try to appear younger or older. But now! *sigh* So many people had achieved so much by the age of 22. Graduated, worked, travelled across Europe, conquered great mounts, skiied, won awards, organised or headed production teams, written their own music, recorded albums, became famous, gone on missionary trips, nursed an ailing patient to health, won souls over for Christ, done voluntary work, broken a limb, represented their country in the Olympics, fought in wars, made sacrifices they never even dreamed they'd be capable of, saved a life, been in near-death experiences, lost a loved one and mourned like I've never mourned before, gotten engaged, married, mothered a child, truly loved and were loved in return... The list just goes on...
And I? What have I done? Not even so much as donated blood. But that's because I can't. Because I'm underweight. Bleh. But still, you get my drift.
Maybe this year is the year to really start making my life count - make a difference in my time, where I am and with what I have. Life itself has taught me to be thankful for life. I know my life is precious even if I don't achieve much, because it's been ransomed by the blood of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, but that certainly doesn't mean I can wile it away. That I can live from day to day as if there's always going to be a tomorrow, forever. One day there will cease to be a tomorrow.
To be honest I don't feel one bit 22, nor look it, I suspect. When I look at my lab demonstrator James who's a postgrad in IC, observe the way he speaks, the way he teaches, his confident way about things and all the knowledge and experience he evidently has - and him being only two or three years older than me - I just shrink away feeling inferior. And unworthy, in a sense, of being called an adult. I clearly remember, one fine day about two months ago, I told a friend that I felt comfortable where I was, being a twenty-one year old girl/woman, and that I didn't feel the need to try to appear younger or older. But now! *sigh* So many people had achieved so much by the age of 22. Graduated, worked, travelled across Europe, conquered great mounts, skiied, won awards, organised or headed production teams, written their own music, recorded albums, became famous, gone on missionary trips, nursed an ailing patient to health, won souls over for Christ, done voluntary work, broken a limb, represented their country in the Olympics, fought in wars, made sacrifices they never even dreamed they'd be capable of, saved a life, been in near-death experiences, lost a loved one and mourned like I've never mourned before, gotten engaged, married, mothered a child, truly loved and were loved in return... The list just goes on...
And I? What have I done? Not even so much as donated blood. But that's because I can't. Because I'm underweight. Bleh. But still, you get my drift.
Maybe this year is the year to really start making my life count - make a difference in my time, where I am and with what I have. Life itself has taught me to be thankful for life. I know my life is precious even if I don't achieve much, because it's been ransomed by the blood of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, but that certainly doesn't mean I can wile it away. That I can live from day to day as if there's always going to be a tomorrow, forever. One day there will cease to be a tomorrow.
10 The days of our lives are seventy years;
And if by reason of strength they are eighty years,
Yet their boast is only labor and sorrow;
For it is soon cut off, and we fly away...
12 So teach us to number our days,
That we may gain a heart of wisdom.
- Psalm 90
And if by reason of strength they are eighty years,
Yet their boast is only labor and sorrow;
For it is soon cut off, and we fly away...
12 So teach us to number our days,
That we may gain a heart of wisdom.
- Psalm 90
Labels: God, thinkingoutloud
posted by may at 6:04 PM
2 Comments:
Contentedness in the absence of complacence. Joy in the absence of pride. Love in the absence of greed.
Those are the ones on my list. =)
i know exactly what u mean...21 to me haz alwayz been a sweet year to anticipate...people actually give u gifts for turning thiz age. but being truly grown-up iz when ppl stop mollycoddling u, iznt it? and somehow reaching 22 iz more like that. and you're right, we'll finally crozz that fine line that leavez our childhood behind. mozt ppl our age ARE gonna start working thiz year. but i guezz still being at uni makez uz different and we have an excuze to continue being 'childizh'...good also wat. don't wanna be young for our age meh? =)
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