I just had to look on my phone to know whether it’s Tuesday night or Wednesday night because I thought it was Tuesday but then I started thinking that maybe it was Wednesday?

It’s Tuesday.

I had a rough night after I finished writing last night.  I’ve mentioned that I’m on seven prescriptions and part of them are steroids; well, the steroids kicked in last night.  I had vivid nightmares, thought people were in my house, etc.  It was a long night.

The doctor had my blood results back at today’s appointment and didn’t like information we got on my liver enzymes or iron levels, but both are going to be manageable.  We talked about the steroids and he told me to expect the nightmares and also “continued fragile emotions.”  We began talking about long-term plans to manage this and it was a pretty heavy conversation.  He said he expects that I will feel the effects of this for at least six months.  I can’t even begin to process that tonight.

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I mentioned last night that I got a package in the mail that I couldn’t do justice to because I was too tired to write about it then.  I’ve been anxious to tell you all about it because I think this is the sweetest little story.

My favorite non-fiction author is Beth Moore and, a little over two weeks ago, she released a new book called So Long, Insecurity. I didn’t pre-order the book because I was hoping to go to one of her book signings (there were a few happening within a couple hundred miles of where I live) so that I could not only meet her, but have an actual book signed by her.  When it came down to the time of the signings, I couldn’t go — it just wasn’t working out with mine and Aviean’s schedule.

Little did I know that a blog reader, Christy, had taken it upon herself to go to one of the signings, buy me a book and ask Beth to autograph it for me.  Which she did.  WITH MY DOUBLE NAME ON IT.

That’s a live shot directly from my bed courtesy of my iPhone that happens to be next to me.

As fate would have it, my friend Cara had already placed an Amazon order of books to be sent to my house and you guessed it: a second copy of the book now resides in my house!  I’m excited to have two copies of it because I can already tell this will be one that is marked up and down each and every page.  In fact, in addition to participating in the mass study of it that will be facilitated through Beth’s blog over the next few weeks, I’ve also asked Cara if she and I can be “book partners” through it because there’s no one on this planet who knows more of my struggles with insecurity than that girl.  And, believe it or not, as I am writing this, my friend Katie just texted me to tell me she went and bought the book tonight so she and I can go through it together, too.

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Writing that made me think of something that I’ve noticed over the past few months but haven’t written much about because I’m not sure how to do it properly.  It’s been about eight months since I officially made the change out of vocational ministry and, one of the biggest surprises that I have experienced is how many opportunities have presented themselves for me to… perhaps engage in some classic mid-twenties rebellion.  When I was in vocational ministry, I had a contract that I had signed that indicated certain things I wouldn’t do in light of the fact I was working in a very public ministerial role.  I upheld the contract.

Being without those guidelines in place these last few months has been very interesting experience.  I certainly didn’t go “wild” at any point, but on a few different occasions I’ve found myself in situations that I haven’t had to face before in my twenties.  Suddenly, for a girl who had made primarily good decisions for seven years, I was deliberately making bad decisions even though I knew better.

I certainly am not proud that I’ve been through that the last few months, but can I tell you a secret?  I feel like I identify so much more now with other girls in their twenties and I feel more “real” myself.  Not that long ago I sat down across from a girl near my age who I would have had very little in common with a year ago.  But now that I’ve been around that track — knowing what it feels like to make decisions that you know are not good — well, I felt like I got where she was at, what it felt like to sit on her side of the table.  For the first time, I can see why certain behaviors are tempting to my age group because, for the first time, I’m actually living in my age group.

And so, my prayer these past few months has been simple — “God, please parent me.”

I need Him to.  I so want to get these years right.

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And now, bed.  But we’ll talk tomorrow night?  Of course we will.