Dear 29:

Well.

Here we are.

You certainly came along faster than I anticipated.

Let’s get a few things straight:

Your predecessor?
28?

Was a real bitch.
And honestly, there were times
(many times)
when I thought I wouldn’t make to you,
29.

That 28 was an abusive relationship–
always promising better things,
followed up by a swift slap in the face,
or a punch to the kidneys (where the bruises don’t show).

And I gotta tell you…

I am through with letting a year steamroll me.

I have great expectations for you, 29.
There’s a puppy, for one thing,
who will be full of cute and awesome,
and that stunningly selfless love that only dogs really possess.

There will be a new house for the Boyo,
one in which he can stretch out
and feel at home.

There will be parties.

Quiet nights.

My first salsa performance.

Christmas and snow and wonder.

All of these things.

And you know what?

No matter what you bring,
no matter if you’re even worse than 28,
I’m not going to give up or give in.

I belong to a faithful God,
and He has never abandoned me–
and even when I felt like He had–
there was always some small grace to get me through.

I am still a little afraid of you.
Still a little scared of finding myself not at all who I thought I would be by now.

But I hope you’ll be a grand adventure of a year,
that you’ll make me look forward to 30 even more.

Yes.

That sounds perfect.

You are going to be an adventure, 29.

I have a cute helmet.
I have a nice pedicure.

Bring it.

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