In the “about me” section of the blog, you can read about who I say I am. You can learn that I’m a wife, mother, blogger, blah, blah, blah… You’ve no doubt had a taste of my quirkiness, my vanity, and my overly obsessive anxious thoughts on a handful of subjects over the last few months. You’ve probably even labeled me. So, what is my label? Who am I? Do you know? One thing comes to my mind today. I’m WAY too serious!
This morning I looked at my dear, sweet husband and said with a bitter tone, “Paul, quit acting like you’re 12!” He responded, “Jen, quit acting like you’re not!” Hmmmm… This is food for thought. Now, you know me, overly obsessive, crazy, quirky, insecure, little me. I began to reminisce what it was like to be 12. I asked myself, “Who was I at age 12? What about myself remains the same as it was at age 12?” Here are my thoughts…
- I was insecure… Yep, not much has changed.
- I laughed a lot… I still laugh a lot.
- I began to fall in love with Jesus on a deeper level… I’m SO glad I did!
- I remember laughing my head off while knocking a boy’s leaf collection off his desk, and he thinking it was just as funny while retaliating. We giggled the sweet sound only 12 year old children can giggle… He remains one of my oldest and dearest friends, who with his beautiful wife will be accompanying Paul and me on my 40th birthday trip.
- I met the love of my life, and a short six years later at age 18, while scaring the bejeebers out of our parents, we two crazy kids got hitched.
Wow, my 12th year shaped up to be quite lovely. I think my husband is right. On several fronts, I need to be less serious and more… 12. I will embrace and learn to work with my insecurities because, let’s face it, they are part of me and have a tendency to keep me humble. I am going to work on continuing to laugh and not sweat the small stuff. I know I will maintain falling in love with Jesus on a daily basis; He is as important as each breath. I’m going to be more thankful for old friends who knew me then, and still love me now, in spite of the evil tricks adolescent years played on me. And, last but not least, I will always treasure the rarity of marrying my first love. He was my childhood sweetheart who knew me before braces, hair dye, driving, kissing (mmm hmmm, he was my first kiss), and the extra roll around the middle.
Maybe, just maybe, to truly embrace age 40, I need to hold on for dear life to age 12.
Eek, I’m sure talking about myself a lot these days, sorry about that… So, what were you like at age 12? What remains the same?