.the ugly cry-laugh thing.

I turned 23 back in April.  And that was a really big deal for me.

I know, I know.  

23 is not old, and it's not 25 either...I can't even call it a quarter-life crisis. dammit.

I guess I'd liken it to an awkward cry-laugh.

You know those times when you don't know whether to cry or laugh, so you just kind of cry a little, then laugh because maybe life is a little too ridiculous at the moment, then eat some chips & guac or what have you, then cry-laugh a little more?  

That's been 23 for me so far.  I guess you could say it would make for a good parody of T.Swift's "22"...someone should write that.

This isn't to say that being 23 has been all bad or even mostly bad, 

just different. Very. different.

By this point I've realized how little I know about what I thought I knew a lot about.

Like life, for instance. 

After I left a big city Bible college about 

2 years ago, there were some earth-shattering circumstances that occurred, one right after the other, and I started to realize that I didn't know as much as I thought about life or being a Christian for that matter. And in full disclosure, I became anxious, depressed, and apathetic. But I hesitated to call those things by their rightful names when talking to others (or even when acknowledging my own story) because I thought I was better than that. Until...23. 

It's a strange feeling when you really start to see you for exactly who you are and name the places that you've been and start to say, "Yes, I've struggled with this."

"Yes I'm a Christian, and I struggle with anxiety."

"Yup, I'm a Christ-follower and I struggle with depression."

"Uh-huh, I can be a pretty apathetic believer in Jesus...you too? Awesome. Not that that's awesome, but let's talk

about it."

It's a chaotic combination of terror and relief. Kind of like a good cry-laugh. But getting honest is the best part. The healing part. The part that changes your perspective and forces you to wrestle with life and faith alongside some solid people who will ask you the hard questions. 

I have been surrounded by some amazing people who have been doing just that and are quick about helping this girl to get a firm grasp on her 23 year old self, either by saying "This is good" or "This is not good and needs to go." They keep it simple. I can recall a friend who basically told me as I was tearing up over breakfast food, "You're not believing the truth...that's dumb."

Thanks.

But you know, it's refreshing, and I think it's actually one of the greatest things, to have friends like that. The ones who will tell you over a plate of comfort food or a hot mug, "This isn't you. This isn't what you should be believing. Duh...but I love you." 

I never was very big on "community" up until life started happening at a ferocious pace beyond anything I could control. Then I realized how weak I was. Alone. By myself. And that's a great place to be really, because it makes us realize how much we need people. And they can help us say all the things we were too afraid to say in the first place. 

Like how it's easy to call my stubbornness "conviction", when really it's just stubbornness dressed up in it's Sunday best.

Or how I sometimes dismissively say, "Psh, this person is..." when, in some ways, I was just like that person not so long ago. 

Just to name a few.

These are the ones who give us permission, and often the words, to call something what it is. And it's something everybody needs.

All this to say, I'm 23 and might not be so good at it, but I am happy to have the people who are in my life with me right now who I can cry-laugh with from time to time. 

I'm also becoming more grateful to be in a place where I just don't know about a lot of things. I've found more freedom in saying "God, I just don't know right now and I'm kind of angry and scared about that." rather than "God, I've got this, I've totally got it and look, I'm not even crying about it." 

This kind of freedom makes the "I don't know, but I'm trusting..." plan not just a 23-year-old thing, but an all-life-long-99.9-year-old thing. And I sincerely hope I'll still have some good friends in wheelchairs playing Scrabble with me someday saying, "don't be believing that...pass the letters."