july. you always bring joy and pain. celebration and grief. beauty and ashes. you are broken yet so beautiful. july brought heartache and happiness, joy overflowing and fear so palpable it was like the elephant sitting on my chest.
turning 30 this year seemed like such a big milestone. i know it's just another day and just another number, but it seems like so much more. as a kid, 30 seems so old. i just knew that by the time i turned 30 i would have a family of my own. i would have a husband and a whole gang of my own little loves running around. i would be planted in the perfect little starter house. i would be a wife, a mother, an educator, a world traveler. and today, i am only one of those. and that's okay. i'm learning that god has me exactly where i should be. i don't have a husband because it's not my time for that. i don't have children of my own because it's not my time for that. i don't have a house of my own because it's not my time for that. if I've learned one thing in my 30 years, its that God always provides what I need on his time, not my own. So here I am, entering my 30's in a huge, not-so-surprising, continued season of waiting.
so my 30th came and went. it was full of love and surprises and although i thought i would be sad to be turning 30, it was really just another gift. my best friend hosted the best birthday weekend, complete with surprise visitors, some of my favorite snacks, and a seafood feast that i will dream about for years to come. my heart was happy and my belly was full. and i am thankful, so very thankful, for every minute that was put into the prep and roll out of such a weekend full of love.
the week leading up to my birthday is always tough. it's strange to think of the day a traumatic event occured as an anniversary, but i don't know what else to call it. every year july 7th rolls around and is a seemingly normal day for everyone else. but when i wake up, i can't breathe. i spent all day trying to get my mind on something else, unsuccessfully. i plan a day full of things only to cancel because the anxiety is so real and so fierce that most of the time just getting out of bed to take a shower is all i can do. 12 years since i was raped, and sometimes the fear and shame and guilt and anxiety is so real it's like its happening all over again. so i spent the day doing nothing, because i couldn't do anything else. i sometimes wonder if someone acknowledged the fact that it's july 7th would make a difference. but then how do you say to someone "hey, would you tell me you love me on July 7th because its always a tough day" without opening a huge can of worms? it seems so easy to say when I type it out, but every year it rolls around and no one says a thing and i can't reach out to anyone to tell them I'm struggling because the fear is too crippling and the shame is too real. so this year, like the last 11, i woke up crying, feeling like i couldn't breathe, and crawled out of bed. i took a shower so hot my skin was raw and red. and i did nothing else. but you know what? that's okay. because i survived another day. i got out of bed. and i survived.
so by the time birthday week and day rolled around, being surrounded by friends and family, watching them pour over homemade treats and decorations and surprises, it felt so good. like on a level that i can hardly put into words because when i try i am just brought to tears. how could people love me so much? i am selfish and a complainer and defeated and spend so much of my time canceling plans, how could people love me anyway? what a beautiful picture of the gospel that week/weekend was for me. my people came together and loved me like jesus loves me. and when i ruined my party shirt they drove across town to buy the exact same one so i would stop crying. and they let me have all the left overs for the next 3 days and didn't complain that they didn't get any. and they served me and loved me and encouraged me. they loved me liked jesus loves me. and i can never say enough thank you's for that.
july, you also brought a gift that i will never forget. little rex arthur. it's not my birth story to tell, but i am honored and in awe. i am honored to have been there when you took your first breath, when we learned you were a boy, when you came into the world with a fighting spirit. i am in awe of how strong you are, how incredible your mom is, and how wonderful our sweet savior is. i can't quite articulate my experience that night as a member of your moms birth team. all i know is you are a gift, your mom is incredibly brave and strong, and the lord is so good. you are a good, good gift, and i praise him for you.
oh sweet july. thank you. thank you for both the beautiful and the broken. thank you for bringing new life this month. thank you for new days and new strength. thank you for bringing my people who love me fiercely and deeply to the same place to celebrate my life. and thank you lord for loving me through the good, the bad, and the ugly.
