Twenty-two?

22. It's a palindrome. It's also a reminder of how old I am.

I've decided, 22 is the first legit year of being old. Twenty-one says I-just-became-legal-so-I-am-still-kind-of-a-youngin'. Twenty-two is when adulthood is set in stone.

This birthday has been particularly great. It was the simple things like trying new restaurants, having deep one-on-ones, and playing sardines that I really enjoyed. I love spending time with my RA staff and also with ACF. And I finally got a Camelbak Nalgene water bottle from some residents. I will die of dehydration no more!

One random cool thing I learned in the past week from talking to my Jewish friend observing Rosh Hashana: the word "Holiday" is derived from Holy Day. I have to admit, I've lost reverence for many holidays and tend to enjoy holidays for my own selfish desires. One great example is 9/11. Though 9/11 technically isn't a holiday, I had completely forgotten about what happened this day in history because I have become so self absorbed with my birthday celebrations. Hrm, no good.

I need to get back to the heart of things. Let's start with... God, thank You for my birthday not because of the attention or gifts that I receive, but because You have graciously given me another year to live. Thank You for the lessons You've taught me, and thank You for where You've brought me these past 22 years. Today is not a celebration of what I've done but of what You've done in and through me. Praise Jesus.