On Being 23

I was very excited last year about turning 23. I had a strong feeling that something very good was going to happen when I was 23.

Here's a look back to see if I was right, more or less chronologically.

I turned 23, for the first time.
I dated a wonderful friend.
I co-wrote/illustrated half a book with a  friend of mine (we've taken a hiatus since she started kindergarden).
My Mom's cancer was safely removed from her body, and she regained full health.
I had the worst sunburn of my life and an ulcer. It was also suspected that I had a liver malfunction of some sort. This has been since ruled out.
I started two amazing graphic novel series. (Fables and Y: The Last Man.)
I reached the wonderful finales of Battlestar Galactica and Sports Night.
I kissed a tree.
For the first time in my life, I got my own room. I now have two beds.
I worked at PGE Park for the Portland Beavers' last season, and I worked that historic park's last season of as a baseball park.
I had my appitite for almost all books ruined by Mark Helprin, whose books read like slip'n'slides yet plunge to the uttermost depths of the human soul.
I saw Arcade Fire live. And, by many accounts, one of the best Over the Rhine shows they've ever done.
I saw about a third of my church peers get married and got to participate in some way in almost every wedding. I had, probably, the best emceeing experience of my life. One bride's entrance (in a canoe, in the rain) was one of the most beautiful things I've seen in a while.
I ran. I slept. I drank and ate. I loved deeply, cried hard. There were moments I looked around and was overwhelmed by the joy present in that moment and in my life.
I spent two absolutely joy-filled weeks at Trout Creek Bible Camp, one home of many.
I was loved by Steve Price, Joann Price, Christopher, Matthew and Anna. My life-ful, life-bringing, love-ful, family.
I went through the most profound time of intellectual doubt I've ever experienced. And came out the other side with a lot of work yet to do and ready to explode with joy.
I sang and sang and sang.
I spearheaded (it seems very vain to say that) two of our best kid's club seasons.
I grew. I saw areas of deep, deep need. I was shown a very clear reflection of myself and was(am) astounded by the distance I have to go till I am a heathy whole human being.
I had the deep, deep honor of getting to take pictures of my friends in Columbia Gorge the day before their wedding.
I began my last term at my school before I begin I enter into a year-long season of insanity focused on my final project.
I ministered to my friend.
I stood taller, with many of my friends.
I helped one of my friends with her "12 to 5am" shoot. Twice.
I climbed a mountain. With a very special bear.

I could go on. I had no idea before writing that how right this year was. I'm going to say, even with all the hardships this year held, my intuition was not wrong. 23 was a beautiful year.

Here's to 24.