Tomorrow is the official day: At 3:15pm I will be precisely 30 years old. I’ve been having all these deep, introspective posts over the past few days, but I haven’t really shared much about my thoughts on actually turning 30.

I sat at my desk before writing this post, just kind of mulling over my thoughts: All the little things that flit in and out of my head about turning 30. There are quite a few, some of them are a bit more “mature” and others are less.

By 30 you’ve really become more of an adult; an adult in ways that aren’t tied to children, home-ownership, jobs, etc. You’ve {obviously} survived your teens and 20s and are a lot more settled in your life. There aren’t as many life-changing unknowns, such as colleges, careers, and such.

When I was a teenager, I never wanted to get married or have kids. I was content to fantasize about being a photo-journalist for National Geographic Magazine or an architect. And at times I believed myself. But, that was my defense mechanism: I was afraid that I would fail at getting married and having kids, it felt safer to say I didn’t want those things. Then I almost didn’t have those things.

I had it all figured out: Married at 23, first baby at 24, second at 26, third at 28, fourth at 30, then the 5th at 32 or adopting. I wanted to be done with having kids before I was 32. I wanted to be a young mom who could enjoy her children and then grandchildren.

I had plans and why couldn’t God understand that! At 27.5 we had our first kid. My timetable was out the window, there was no way we would have the family we had wanted.