He pressed in, snuggling me close to his body were he whispered quietly in my ear, “Happy Birthday.”

Suddenly I revolted at his loving words by bursting into a river of tears.

I did not want to be 29.

Not that this day found me by surprise, of course I knew May 4th was my Birthday. But every time I saw  the days approaching I brushed aside the realities, lying to my heart so I didn’t have to face this day.

Nothing within me wanted to have a Happy Birthday.

Anger swelled up as I wished May 4th to not be today.

 

Patient with my meltdown, he jumped up out of bed and offered to get me a Starbucks, the quick fix to all life’s problems. He left me in the silence of my room to pray, mourn, and reflect.

 

29, I know just an age, and young to many, to me, 29 was old.

29 signified a deep mourning.

A deep loss of everything I desired as a married woman.

29 meant facing the realities of my expectations of life head on.

29 signified dreams burning in my soul that are unsatisfied.

 

And here I am, now 29, struggling to find my passions in life, broken dreams and engulfed by grief that I do not have my dear aunt to celebrate this day with.

 

Her death swallowing the joy of my day, the death of my expectations shadowing my soul.

29, did not want to be welcomed in with wide open arms.

Flashing before my eyes was every gift she gave me for my Birthday. My love language, gifts, I remember her gifts vividly.

I sit up from my bed, and there on my dresser, a gift she gave me 4 years ago, a little wooden sign, “All things are possible with God.”

Her encouragement, though she is gone, still giving the hope to press on.

I hear her in my head, “Kate don’t be sad, God is going to do something big.”

 

My dear husband returns, coffee and donuts, caffeine slowly fills my blood, I can think a little straighter now. He snuggles up near me as we share our shattered dreams of expectations.

I did not want to turn 29 today because it just signified one more year, one more year older, one more year of the glaring spotlight on us, we are different, we are behind, we don’t fit in with our peers.

The blaring loudness of stark contrast of life screamed in my soul. I long to be content–to rejoice in the gift of my life–yet the weight of loss that sat on my heart was inescapable.

 

I mourn.

I mourn every expectation I held about how life would go.

I mourn the days of life that won’t be shared with my aunt.

I mourn the unfulfilled longings in my heart.

29, feels like the year of mourning, not rejoicing.

Yet, as my Birthday was more of a love/hate relationship I chose to focus on His promise, a verse that he has given me. On days like my Birthday, when I feel my hope is shattered I go back to a promise God tucked in my heart a few years ago.

 

For I am about to do something new.

   See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?

I will make a pathway through the wilderness.

   I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.

 

29, the year to expect.

Expect something new.

Live this fleeting shadow of life with hope.

Though 29 was off to a hard start before the year even began, long ago God planted the seeds of newness.

My 5 years of journey into the wilderness is not the ending to the story.

29 may feel like it is getting started on the platform of defeat but I have had to go back over and over scripture,

victory is at hand.

I have to continue to walk in faith, filled with hope that God is writing a story through grief, shattered dreams and a broken heart.

 

Sometimes that looks like Abraham’s hope.

“Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed”

Against all hope, I in hope believe.

Against all hope, with doubts, tears, fears, grief, broken dreams in my hand,

I, Katie, in hope believe.