Dear Future Me,

Knowing you, one day you’ll be reading this in the far distant future, being amused by your former self – and that’s perfectly fine. In fact, that’s kinda the purpose of this letter: To freeze this moment in time so you can look back on it and remember. Also, I wanna tell you some important things that you could possibly forget as the years slid by in the excited frenzy of life.

But first, a snapshot of what’s going on at this exact moment so you can look back from years and picture it perfectly.

It’s 8:53 on a nice and calm, Saturday morning. This isn’t my actual birthday – no that was a week ago, but we were in Florida visiting the family and then traveling home, so we’re celebrating today. (Although, of course, we also celebrated last Saturday, but you know me, carrying on with celebrations and all.) This week was a wonderful and busy one with arriving home Sunday late afternoon, having stuff going on all day Monday, and then working at Chapman’s Coffee Shop for the next four days. Since I knew I had today off I allowed myself to indulge in staying up until one this morning reading a book.

I’m sitting at my desk in a clean office, although there are a few stacks of papers that need to be gone through. (Always papers to go through.) I also, for some odd reason, have a pair of sparkly socks sitting on my desk. I used them just a moment ago to erase my whiteboard, cause you know me, I can’t work at a messy desk. (Are you still like that?) I also have a salt lamp some pictures, a pad of paper, and six containers of glitter on my desk, but all those are to be expected, right? In the stuffed animal category I have a cute little elephant and skunk residing on my desk, because how could I write without those critters? I’m drinking decaf (although my caffeine intake recently has been exorbitant compared to normal), and eating a delicious Lindor white chocolate truffle Kaitlyn so sweetly sent me for my birthday.

Whimsy is hanging out in his cage. All three of my windows are open. The trees and field are beautifully autumn. Yesterday I transitioned my closet from summer clothes to winter clothes and rediscovered in the process how many of my clothes are either dark blue or red. (Maybe that means I have a certain style after all? I always figured my style was along the lines of “Whatever is fastest and easiest to wear.”) And, amazingly enough, I’m listening to JJ Heller. Remember how her music used to stress me out? I suppose wonders never cease.

Alexa, Zach, and Aubrey are planning on coming for brunch, along with Sarah and her family who are making a special cake that we are all looking forward to. I’ve wanted to make homemade noodles for a long time, so I’m planning on diving into that project this afternoon with Sarah, and perhaps some of my sisters. I’m hoping my adopted parents can come for supper, but we haven’t worked out all those logicists yet.

Does that make you, future self, feel nostalgic? But enough of the snapshot of life, now onto what else I had to say.

As I write this I’ve officially passed that threshold of being a quarter of a century old. Which in reality isn’t old, but it feels like a commemorative-worthy event. I have such a long list of things I’ve gotten to do, places I’ve been, mistakes I’ve made, successes I’ve seen, dreams I’ve realized, problems I’ve solved, and people I love. I feel like I’ve fit a lot of life into my days, but I also feel like I’ve lived a fair amount of days.

Do you know what though? I have currently only lived a grand total of 9,138 days.

That’s not very many. See, if I live to be a hundred years old, that means I have a grand total of 36,524 days – only 27,386 days left. Each day matters. Each day is important. Each day that slips by is one I’ll never get back – time I’ll never be able to redeem.

Psalm 90:12 says So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts to wisdom. 

I want to apply my heart to wisdom. I want to learn, grow, become who I’m supposed to be. I want to live, love, serve, see, change, become, grow, need, and be needed. I want to do big things – be the hands and feet of Christ to those who I’m around. I also want to do whimsical things – dance in the rain and sleep under the stars. I want to do huge things – become a bestselling author and be a successful, encouraging blogger. I want to do little things – play skip-bo with my little brother and read books to my nieces and nephews. I want to do balanced things – sleeping when I need to, running half marathons, hanging out with people. I want to do adventuresome things – RV across the USA, travel the world, own a skunk. I want to do creative things – creating, exploring, discovering, tasting, growing, and learning. I want to do rememberable things – going out of my way to help people, writing unforgettable books, making up new recipes. I want to do challenging things – regularly choosing to step out of my comfort zone and make the right choices. I want to do faith-filled things – following God even when it doesn’t make sense to me. I want to do still things – listening to God, enjoying the moments, being content.

Dear Future Me, this is what I want to be able to look back and nod at. To know that I was able to stay on track, to take the time to simply be. The time to run full steam ahead. The time to become who God wanted me to be.

So much of life up until this point has been growing my roots down deep, and I’m so thankful for that. I hope to always continue to grow my roots deep and deeper. Yet at the same point, I want to be ready now for whenever the time for the next phase of life comes. Not that I want to give this one up because it’s beautiful. But sometimes change can be beautiful as well. No matter if it’s when I’m twenty-five and getting a new job, or if it’s when I’m fifty and my first child is getting married.

This is my life – your life – live it, grow it, redeem it.

Sincerely,

Lydia Howe