When I stop and trace the path back to the day I started the last decade, I could see stone memorials along the way. In my opinion, the 20-30 decade is when most life changing decisions are made. At least, that’s what happened to me. One doesn’t come out of this decade just ten years older. You come outbrewedbrushed and bolder…and yes, ooooolder. My, you wouldn’t believe ten years could make such difference.

 

To illustrate my point, I will compare the 20-30 decade with the 10-20 decade.

 

When I was 10, I was in school. When I turned 20, I was STILL in school.

When I was 10, I lived off my parents income. WhenI turned 20, I was STILL living off their income.

When I was 10, I dreamed of being swooned by a good guy. When I turned 20, I was STILL dreaming.

When I was 10, I looked forward to growing up. When I turned 20, I was STILL looking forward to it.

 

And then, there’s the 20 – 30 decade.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve worked in more than 2 schools.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve had 6 jobs.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve made money. Sometimes, not much.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve lived in 5 different cities.

Between 20 and 30, I’ve fallen in love 3 times. Apparently, fell out 3 times too. (and they shall remain un-named! lol!)

 

Those things BREWED me.

 

Between 20 and 30, I earned a college diploma with flying colors.

Between 20 and 30, I worked as a Moderator of Co-curricular activities in a school and that’s where my talents welled up.

Between 20 and 30, I had countless stage-time that stirred my passion for public speaking.

Between 20 and 30, I won my first Speech title.

Between 20 and 30, I met 80% of the people I truly consider friends right now.

Between 20 and 30, I wrote poems and I allowed strangers to read them. I even wrote poems for strangers.

Between 20 and 30, I learned to love my hair.

Between 20 and 30, I gained all the weight I don’t need right now.

Between 20 and 30, I was educated by the best mentors, not in the classroom.

Between 20 and 30, I found my calling.

 

Those things BRUSHED my rough edges. (although I don’t really know how the weight and the hair fit in that category)

 

Now that I am 30, I am BOLDER.

 

Bold enough to take captive my own emotions just because they aren’t helping me.

Bold enough to walk away from what is good towards what is best.

Bold enough to fight for joy in the midst of suffering.

Bold enough to tell myself I am wrong.

Bold enough to let strangers invade my personal space because they don’t have any place they can call their own.

Bold enough to stand on a promise though the promise-keeper is frail.

Bold enough to keep standing on a promise made.

Bold enough to accept I have been wronged.

Bold enough to not hide my crushed pride.

Bold enough to say “Here I am, send me.

Bold enough to admit I am never enough, no, not even for myself. Someone lives for me.

Bold enough to accept GRACE.

 

But if I am bold enough it is only because … I hide beneath the CROSS.

 

 

p.s. Oh, yeah…older too. Old enough to start a family, but no one is bold enough to start it with me. Keeeeed-ing!!!

p.s.s. If you fall under any of the categories – those people who (a) Brewed me (b) Brushed Me (c) Made me Bold- this post is in honor of your contribution to my life. If you are tagged, you def belong to one.

Article by Jabez Oberes. She blogs at http://www.expandingmyterritory.blogspot.com/

1 comment

  1. Thanks Yada!! its an honor being featured here 🙂 may my testimony encourage a soul.

    To readers of Yada, and to my Nigerian friends, you are sure of a spot in my heart *love*

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