From 45 to 46
I love birthdays even now, although, I don't even remember my 45th birthday...was I drinking or something? I don't think so..hum..well anyway, I guess that's how it is when you transition from early 40s to late 40s, you forget LOTS of stuff. I wish I could forget the unpleasant stuff more. But that's another trait of aging, we remember all of the bad stuff.
45 was not the best year of my life I must say. It wasn't the worse, 16 still holds that honor but as my 16th year was, and so many other bad years, I believe 45 is the beginning of a great season.
You know how, at least for me, I will have a really bad year that leads to a few years of really great stuff. Great life. I believe all things work together for the good of those who love God, and I do love God, so I believe all of this crap that was 45 is gonna lead to better days. There was a huge silver lining to 45, my new house that we now own, I shan't forget that.
I cried at church during worship this morning. I mean bawled like a baby and it felt great! I haven't been able to do that for a while. Mainly because I've been pissed off at church stuff or in some kind of crazy funk, or sitting in worship services where I felt manipulated like a puppet, or I've been on stage leading worship at the Dream Center and that's different then sitting in the congregation at the Dream Center, enjoying worship, entering in.
See I recently went on rotation with another girl on the worship team so I could have every other week to just sit in service and enjoy it like everyone else. I need that and I am loving it! I love when I'm back on stage singing with my worship team family when it's my "on" Sunday too, don't get me wrong, I love singing and worshiping with them, and now I love it more because I get to sit in the congregation and listen to them sound so great every other Sunday. I get to be a part of it onstage and off and I know that is a true blessing that I don't ever take for granted.
But anyway, back to bawling. I don't tell you all that to be like, "look at me aren't I spiritual" rather I say it because for a very long time this year I just wasn't crying. And I'm a crier. I feel stuff deeply. Heck, I'm an artist, I think you need only to look at my rants of facebook, my tweets and instagrams of song lyrics, and my art work to know I'm an emotional person. But tears were just not really a part of all that this year. Not enough I would say. I believe tears clean the soul, they are our God given cleaner outer, they pour the toxins of fear, sadness, hate, pain, out of our bodies and they also release the joy, happiness, excitement, from our souls as well. Tears are good. No tears is bad. and for a long time, I had no tears. I'm glad the tears are back. I'm glad I'm able to worship God with people I love and feel every bit of it to my core. That is good stuff.
I just put on my head phones while typing this and just guess what song is on? Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons. No, I'm not kidding. Dead serious. I'm listening to it right now. THE song that personified this last year,
"crawl on my belly till the sun goes down, I'll never wear your broken crown..."
Then he says the F word. Which for the longest time I thought the lyrics were "chucked it all away" until one day I listened closely...but it's still a perfect description of this last year, what happened at HPC, tales spun like a political campaign, people leaving heartbroken, discarded, sent away, fired, some staying and hanging on by a thread, hopeful, dismayed, hardened, in denial, whatever we are all feeling, the powers that be "Chucked" it all away and yet His grace is there as it is everywhere and that is good.
I think if there's one lesson I learned at 45 it was where my identity is. I am not a member of HPC, I am not a follower of any person or church, I am not a member of the Dream Center, I am a child of God, He is my identity. He is what defines me. I want to walk with Him. Period. It's easy to spend a life time saying it but not until your identity is shaken like a martini do you HAVE to find your place in Him again.
45 shook the sh!% out of this martini!
And it's all good.
I'm looking forward to 46. Being nicer. I swear before I die I will be nicer. I won't give up! Kids, Dean, hang on, I'm in progress, don't give up on me.
Cheers to 46. Dare I not chuck it all away.