It has not been easy.
The wrestling here at this point in this valley.
This 33 snuck up on me. Now I'm another year older.
So what now?
What does it mean?
32 was my crucifixion year. 32 was letting go and dying to self and sacrificing everything and getting wrecked and losing much and the painful burning away of what I once held dear.
I’m marked by 32. I’ll look back and I’ll see it in the tapestry of my past and I’ll remember – yes, 32 – unexpectedly crushing and so so beautiful because…Jesus. How is it that He makes the worst things the most beautiful things?