Another birthday, another day. Come and gone. You may say, 29? Not old. Not even close. I would agree but I can't help but feel like the past ten years have swept by me, leaving me feeling a but claustrophobic, a bit petrified as to where the next year, five years, ten years will take me.
If you told me where I'd be today ten years ago, I'd have argued with you, told you that wasn't the plan. But alas, this is reality. I'm here not where I had planned but I'm here.
All in all, I welcome the turning of another year. Means I have breath in my lungs, life in me and there is still always a plan. Maybe not my own, but a plan nevertheless.
Thank God for another year.