Chapter 30: Making It

(Ammon's first big-boy bath with Grantee)

(What I found when I downloaded pictures. . . + several shots of door frames, drawer knobs, and carpet.)

How do you define chapters in your life? By years? Moves? Births? Deaths? First days of school? Do you ever take a minute (or hours) to remember memories that happened over the course of your memories? Does it feel like those events happened to another person, or like your life is a movie you watched? I don't quite know how to describe the feeling, I guess I am assuming you know what I mean.

There is a song in the musical Wicked called "Thank Goodness." It shares some pretty insightful lines about happiness, but one of my favorite parts of the song says,

There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed

Anyway, I was just thinking about that. There are definitely some chapters that are more clearly defined than others: graduating from school, the birth of a first child, moving from one state to another, starting a new job, being released from a calling. Then there are those chapters that you look back and realize they have closed without you even knowing it: becoming an adult, watching your kids grow up, letting go of a tragedy or sadness, overcoming a challenge or trial (probably the biggest "bridge" we don't know we've crossed until we can look back and see the bridge behind us).

So today I am defining chapters by years. I can remember hanging on the monkey bars when I was 7, wearing a purple dress and parading around outside with a purple umbrella, going to the store and blowing all of my money on 2 Barbie dolls and then having buyer's remorse for the rest of my life. Ten years ago I was 20. I was newly married and living in China with my sweetheart. Boy was that fun! In less than a month we will celebrate Logan's birthday and he will get baptized! I turned 30! I think we opened and closed a lot of chapters this year. . . baby, moving, birthdays, callings, work, new school, friends, furniture (yay! got it yesterday!), accomplishments. I think we're doing ok--even great! We're making it.*

*This is how I get through life. . . I tell myself: in 10 years this (broken dish, speeding ticket, bombed test, etc) won't mean a thing. We will make it because there is no other choice. And there isn't! Come What May and Love it! (<---click on it)