Letter To My 35-Year-Old Self

Last week, I reflected back 10 years, today I look forward 10 years and write down some dreams and thoughts to my future self.  Here it is:

Dear 35-Year-Old Self,

I am writing this with no idea where you will be at 35 or what you will be like, but I have some hopes and dreams for you that I would like to outline for you.  Knowing you, I have a feeling when you read this in 10 years, you might feel a little disappointed if you are not where I imagine you being.  That is perfectly okay.  You might not be where I imagined, but really all I can hope for is that you are following the will of God.  That is all that really matters.

Currently I am in a place of uncertainty.  A place of transition and new territory.  I am just beginning to figure out this new role as mom.  At 35, I have no idea how many children we may have or even what location we will be at, but I hope in 10 years to be more confident as a mom.  I question myself daily.  I question if I am doing enough for Hudson.  Every day I am faced with the doubt that I am not a good enough mother.  I am pretty certain that I will still have these doubts in 10 years, they may be even more significant with the passing of time, but I do hope you have greater confidence in your ability to mother well.  Not only as mother, but I hope your confidence has increased in all areas of your life.  Ultimately I hope you stand on even firmer confidence in Christ, and through this, you may live a life that is bolder and more certain.

Along with confidence, I hope you are not as serious.  I hope in 10 years, you have become more fun and less stressed.  I know in these next few years, life is likely going to get more complicated and more full, but my prayer is that I can increase in maturity to handle it all better than my early twenties.  I hope you can better handle when things fall apart.  I hope there are less anxious tears and more belly laughs.  I hope that you can shake things off quicker and with greater ease.  I hope you can be less frantic and concerned about the things that really do not matter.  Again, I know you and I know that you are likely going to still have these same anxious and stressed out tendencies that I am currently dealing with, but along with all the other hopes I outlined, I ultimately hope you can learn to lean less on yourself and more on the Lord.

Not only do I hope you are more confident and less anxious, I hope you have become better.  I hope you are better in all senses.  I hope you are a better wife.  I hope you love Lance better and are less selfish.  I hope you are a better mother.  I hope you are more patient with Hudson and any future children you may have.  I hope you have become a better sister, daughter, friend, church member, neighbor, woman, and most importantly a better follower of Christ.  This is starting to feel overwhelming, but really all I am hoping for is that by 35 your heart is bigger and fuller and more willing to love the people in your life better.  I know you still have a long way to go, but I really hope you can read this and know that you are absolutely more intentional with the relationships in your life.

At 25, I write this with great optimism.  I really cannot wait to meet you at 35 and see the life that you are living.  I can’t wait to see the growth you have made and I really can’t wait to see Hudson as a 10-year-old.  While I write this with hopeful optimism, I am almost certain that you probably have experienced lost somewhere along these 10 years.  You probably have had some darker seasons.  You may have even gotten a little lost along the way.  I am sure there have been some really hard tears you have cried and some really beautiful laughs.  I write this knowing that there are going to be some difficulties these next 10 years that will likely test me and make me feel uncomfortable.  Whatever has happened, I hope you can look back and through both the pain and the joy, see the hand of God over it all.

Love,

Your 25-year-old self