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Monthly Archives: July 2017

That’s just how life works

 

“Wow. 36. Can you believe it?” my aunt asked this morning. “Seems like you were born yesterday.”

“How about you? You turned 66 yesterday.  Can YOU believe it?” We are birthday buddies, my sweet aunt and me. Thirty years and one day.  I must’ve been an excellent birthday gift.

“I can’t.  Would that we could each just subtract a decade, huh?” I laughed and she laughed, but then she stopped, “Wait.  Were you happy at 26?”

She asked because she knows two things about me: 1. I am happy now, and 2. There have indeed been significant periods of my life when I wasn’t.

I didn’t hesitate. “I was. Ten years ago I was a newlywed, freshly back from an amazing two-week honeymoon. We were living in Minneapolis and just enjoying our new life.”

“That’s right.  That was ten years ago.  Wow.”

“But I wouldn’t go back.  I complain a lot about my kids, but they’re pretty great. I do often miss the child-free days, but really, this is so much better.”

Now that I’ve moved back to my home town, I can see my aunt and uncle pretty much any time I want.  They live less than a mile from us. On the same street. Yes, they babysit. So, I imagine these conversations will only get better. Like me, my aunt wears her heart on her sleeve.  We’re so alike it’s scary. (My sister is also eerily similar to my mom’s other sister.  Coincidence or influence, we’ll never know.)

In ten years, my spouse and I have moved from the city to the suburbs to outstate. We’ve lost weight and gained weight.  We’ve had kids and lost parents. We’ve watched our families change because of it. We’ve both been seriously ill. We ate out every night and traveled the world; we budgeted our groceries and skipped concerts.  We stayed up all night because we were partying in Chicago.  We stayed up all night because our baby wouldn’t stop puking on us.  (Seriously.  After about three shirts each, we just stopped even putting them on.  Towels, people.  Lots of towels.)

People like to write lists of why their 30s are better than their 20s (and why their 40s are even better still; can’t wait!) Or Ten Things I’d Tell My Younger Self.  But the fact is, both the best things AND the worst things have happened in these last six years.  My thirties kind of suck.  But they’ve also been the best yet.  I probably felt the same way at 26, frankly.  Because those six years between 20 and 26 were full of ups and downs, too. I’m kind of getting the impression that that’s just how life works.

So, even though I’m willing to consider the idea that time travel is real, I wouldn’t go back a decade. Too many people in my life have died before they should have that I happily consider getting older a great privilege. I mean, I’m totally going to dye my hair various shades of neon tomorrow with my six-year-old daughter, so don’t call me old yet, but you get the idea.

At 26, I was very happy.  At 36, I’m very, very happy.  You can only guess where I’ll be at 46.

Birthday date with my BFF. Never order a large without asking how big that actually is!

The God I happen to have a relationship with

Distortion of body image, a tree in the woods, hot sex as a married person, a LulaRoe sale, commentary on complimenting women’s bodies, my own blog post about the 21 Days of Prayer.  These were all the things I shared on my personal Facebook profile yesterday (along with a super-cute picture of my kids and dogs).

 

There’s a lot of God in this picture!

And then someone sent me this message: Do you think people will take you seriously leading a PRAYER study when you are posting about sex and articles using the F-word? (There was some other stuff about “thinking about what’s best for you,” but I glazed right over that.)

I decided I would go ahead and answer that one publicly.  Duh.

“Dear sanctimonious acquaintance of mine who inexplicably cares what I do and how I present myself,

My answer to your question regarding people taking me seriously has a very short answer: I don’t care. Let me elaborate. I really, really don’t care.  I bought a book of prayer study for my own damn self (see what I did there?) and I told a couple of friends about it.  One of them thought I should make it part of my public Facebook group to easily connect and also benefit others.  I like to share, so yeah, I put it out there.  Maybe people are reading and studying with me, maybe not.  Do I care? See above. Prayer study is for one’s own self and their relationship with one’s own god.  The God I happen to have a relationship with is absolutely thrilled I am sharing messages of equality and acceptance of all God’s people.  My God is over the moon excited that I enjoy a sweet video of God’s amazing creations.  My God is super stoked that I am in a healthy relationship with physical enjoyment.  My God also loves that LulaRoe makes me feel comfortable AND pretty, because my God cares about my feelings.  And I’m pretty sure my God is okay with an angry, sarcastic commentary on why people shouldn’t focus their attention and “compliments” on other people’s bodies, since that’s the one thing God goes ahead and leaves on Earth when God brings you to heaven! God doesn’t care if I say fuck (or type it).  If people who follow me online “don’t take me seriously,” I’m really, really okay with that.  If they think I’m some kind of lesser Christian because I have sex and swear and ALSO love Jesus, then we probably wouldn’t be friends in real life.  Like you and me, SAOMWICWIDAHIPM (see above).”

I think that about says it all.  Anything you would add, dear reader? Leave it in the comments, but I’m pretty sure SAOMWICWIDAHIPM will have stopped following me by then.  Peace.

Book Study: 21 Days of Prayer

Tap, tap.  Is this thing on? If you don’t know, we moved.  Into an unfinished home renovation.  Life has been all kinds of crazy up in here.  But I’m rejuvenating my blog and my spirit starting RIGHT NOW with this book study.  While I’ll be applying it to both my blogging and my everyday life, please know that it’s applicable to anyone.

I hope you’ll join me! (link expired)

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Emily Heinis 2020