Reflecting on Turning 30 (tomorrow!)

I spent part of my birthday week this week with two best friends in New York

I turn 30 tomorrow so I figured it’s a good time to pause and reflect on life. 30 is considered an important age milestone, the end of youth in some respects. 

I think this photo illustrates well just how grown up I am at *almost*  30

Cultural expectations surrounding 30 are that someone will have finished education, settled down and started a family, found a good stride in a career, bought a house, etc.

I haven’t really done any of these things except education – and if you know me, you know that was finished December 2016, 6.5 years after most of my peers exited college. I stayed in graduate school for my MA and PhD – which is considered an acceptable alternate path to starting a family and career right away, as long as it is followed by getting a decent paying job in the field you studied (and then starting a family and buying a house). 

Graduation day in December 2016

But then instead of doing any of that, I started working full-time for SportQuest and continued to build a community-based ministry I started while in graduate school. Oh, and I'm still single, living in an apartment with a roommate, and driving the 1998 Camry my family paid for while I was in school. But I love what I do and understand what a gift and a privilege it is to be able to pursue something I am called to and passionate about - it is a choice not everyone has - and I don't want to waste any opportunity to invest in the young people I get to serve.

A favorite "work" picture, hanging out at the fields with some of my soccer girls

Coaching soccer with a broken wrist in Belgium...the week before I turn 30!

Two young men who I love & I've watched grow up over the past few years 

I understand why some friends have approached 30 and felt frustrated that life isn’t where they expected it to be at the milestone. My life at 30 (ok, almost 30) isn’t what I imagined 30 would look like as a 20-year-old. I pictured married with kids and serving as a missionary-teacher in another country. Instead, I’m a single missionary with a doctorate who works as a coach/administrator of sports programs in Louisiana – the only part 20-year-old Danielle got right is “missionary,” but even then I spend more time in a neighborhood park than a church building. But as 30 has crept closer, I feel grateful for the things the last decade was filled with and hopeful for things yet to come. I’m very content.

On most days, I like the human being I am – I say *most* because I am ok with acknowledging that I am not always super cool and super functional and super fun to be around. I know this person is generally more compassionate and empathetic, smarter and more mature, and more capable of accomplishing what she sets out to do than she was 10 years ago. Because of my relationship with Jesus, as time passes, I am moving closer to who He created me to be – becoming a fuller expression of a human created in the image of God. There is great joy in that process of becoming, even when it is painful.

Aging is something Western culture makes out to be dangerous and depressing (especially for women). The world screams that aging is bad because we’re less beautiful, less healthy and active, less likeable, less able to do what we want to do as we get older. We’re told to enjoy certain seasons – high school, college, young-married, new parent, etc. – because they’re “the best years” of our lives and we can’t get the time back.

The only truth in that is you can’t get the time back. The rest depends on what you use to measure beauty, health, social life, and success. At almost 30, I am more confident in my appearance than I was at 20, but admittedly less physically fit (I never fell in love with the gym once I quit playing sports).

Laugh lines and crow's feet are starting to show, but I really love this photo 

I have fewer friends but deeper relationships with the people who I intentionally do life alongside; not being liked by people who I am not friends with doesn’t cause the same kind of anxiety as it did five or ten years ago. 

Me and some of my best friends in Baton Rouge

Because of my life experiences so far, I am more prepared and able to do things I want to do and handle obstacles that pop up than I was at 20. Sometimes I still panic...but less frequently. I also know the secret of seeking out and asking advice from people who have lived longer and have more experience than me – if being 29 helps me see the world more clearly, imagine the insight of someone who is 39, 49, 59, 69…

Me and Dr. Martin, my PhD advisor at graduation; Dr. Martin is a friend and mentor who I am so thankful for!

Dr. Harrison is who I aspire to be as a community servant; I am honored to serve with her and follow her example

So now, here’s the short version of what the past 10 years have been filled with:

August 2008-August 2018

• Studied abroad in France and Uganda, learned a new language and how to love people
•  Finished college at Milligan, applied and was accepted to graduate school
•  Moved to Louisiana and started graduate school at Louisiana State University
•  Took a lot of sociology classes, taught a lot of sociology classes, did a lot of research, wrote a lot of papers at LSU
• Found “family” in Baton Rouge and fell in love with the city
•  Chose to live out my faith more intentionally and got to know Jesus in new ways
•  Founded SportQuest Baton Rouge summer project (which just completed its 7th year!)
•  Figured out how to combine things I’m passionate about with things I am good at to love God and love people
•  Finished an MA and PhD in sociology
•  Entered full time ministry with SportQuest
•  Went through really difficult things and realized how important it is to have the right roots

Below is the longer version with more reflection on some key life experiences over the past decade…

August 3^rd, 2008: I turned 20 on the day my study abroad group visited the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France. How is that for memorable?

Turning 20 at the top of the Eiffel Tower

I spent January-May 2009 studying in Uganda (East Africa). Ugandans deeply value relationships. Living in their culture showed me how stressed out and overwhelmed I often was in my day-to-day life, and how always moving from one thing to the next and checking things off on my to-do list had consequences for my health and relationships. When I returned to the United States, I made a promise to God that when it came to choosing between people and other things, I would always choose people first. And that I would trust Him with the other things. I am not perfect in this promise, but I have grown a lot in this area since 2009.

Me and my family in Uganda; Mama Joyce (holding the baby) raised me in an entirely new culture for several months, and I am so grateful to her

I expected in Uganda for God to confirm my calling into overseas missions and possibly to serving long-term in East Africa. But then He didn’t. I returned home not really sure what the next steps were. I was still confident that the Lord had called me into missions, but I didn’t have an exact location or field of work in mind. Spending a year not knowing softened my heart to the unforseen open door to move to Louisiana and start graduate school in 2010 after finishing college.

Family snapshot after my college graduation from Milligan in 2010

August 2010 – December 2016: Graduate school! I moved to Baton Rouge the week before I turned 22. I didn’t have any friends or family in the city. 

The first 2-3 years in Baton Rouge were all about making a home in a new city and figuring out what it meant to be a Christian and pursue a relationship with God in an environment where there was very little accountability or pressure to do so. No family, no Christian friends (at first), and no Christian college campus. I grew a lot in my faith because it was consistently challenged, and because I chose to make it a priority when I could have chosen a lot of other things.

Girlfriends from a Bible study in 2012-2013 at a Mardi Gras parade

As I grew in my faith and worked on my studies, I thought more about vocation vs. occupation. Occupation is how you get paid, but vocation is a place where your skills and passions come together to be used for God’s Kingdom. For me, my passions for sports and service and my skills in understanding/applying sociology came together in the SportQuest Baton Rouge project, which I founded in 2012. I wanted to share the gospel with young people in ways they could understand. I wanted to bring people together across lots of boundaries – race, class, neighborhood, denomination, etc. – and give them a chance to partner to make our city better. I wanted to tackle some pressing social issues that create obstacles to young people in Baton Rouge achieving their full potential. The summer project was an important first step in entering my vocation, and it wasn't overseas. It was five minutes from my apartment, in a community park that is now my favorite place on earth.

SportQuest Baton Rouge team and some kids from 2016 project at the park

I kept doing SportQuest Baton Rouge in the summers and my PhD research focused on sports outreach programs, so my ministry and studies came together in a really cool way. But more than this, committing to a certain place and people, and continuing to serve through the highs and lows that come with life, gave me a family I didn’t expect to have. There are many who have loved and mentored me so well – parented me in life, school, and ministry. There are sisters and brothers, friends to do life with. People to laugh and celebrate with. And people who are still there when the darkness rises. And then there young people who I have had the privilege to see grow up, whose sports competitions, birthday parties and graduations I’ve attended, who I have coached and tutored and taxied (seriously – so.much.driving) and loved on for a lot of years now. I can’t imagine doing life in a different community or with a different family.

Soccer team after our first win!

Girls who attend weekly Bible study that includes games & pizza

Kids from the football team attending LSU graduation of a coach who is also one of my former college students

December 2016 - present: So when I finished my PhD and there was a question mark hanging over me for a few months – was it time to go on a job hunt and become a professor, to finally get back on track of the American dream? – I chose to stay, to leave the roots I had been laying for so many years firmly in place and to continue to cultivate seeds that had been planted in the ministry so far.

I wish I could say that the decision to stay meant the past year – my first year engaged in full time missions work – was a year of fruit and success and all the good stuff in life. But that’s not true. Instead, it’s been a year of processing some deeply hurtful rejection, moving forward after being burned by a failed partnership, and surviving the deepest wounds I have ever carried (still carry) after watching one of the kids who I am closest to make the worst decisions I could imagine and suffer horrible consequences. While much of my time in Baton Rouge has been defined by thriving friendships and community, the past year has been an isolating time in the wilderness grappling with rejection, failure, and heartache.

He has made me chew on gravel.

He has rolled me in the dust. 

Peace has been stripped away, 

and I have forgotten what prosperity is. 

I cry out, “My splendor is gone! 

Everything I had hoped for from the Lord is lost!” 

The thought of my suffering and homelessness

is bitter beyond words.

I will never forget this awful time,

as I grieve over my loss.

Yet I still dare to hope

when I remember this:

The faithful love of the Lord never ends!

His mercies never cease.

Great is his faithfulness;

his mercies begin afresh each morning.

I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance;

therefore, I will hope in him!”

Lamentations 3:16-24

And yet, I dare to hope. I am thankful I stayed. And I am oh so thankful for those roots. Roots that held through a terrible storm. Roots that would not have been so secure if I had dug them up and tried to replant them someplace else. I am only beginning to see some light after spending the past few weeks traveling outside of Baton Rouge so I would have space to reflect on all of the experiences of the past year and pray through what the Lord is teaching me. My heart is still tender, but I am hopeful for the future and excited for the next steps. God is good.

Coaching soccer - or possibly solving a disagreement - on the soccer court in Gent Brugge, Belgium, this summer  

Coaching team that served for a week with SportQuest in Gent Brugge

So, tomorrow I turn 30. And if you’ve read this long reflection and are wondering what to make of it, I hope it encourages and challenges you. I hope you are encouraged to look back on your past 10 years with contentment because you may not be where you expected, but you can still appreciate where you are – and all the good and bad experiences you have collected to get there. And I hope you are challenged to reflect on your life using different standards than the world tends to use, and that when you toss out these expectations, you are not only able to give yourself some extra grace, but even more, that you find yourself celebrating life so far and looking forward to new things.

Speaking of the future, I feel like all of this begs the obvious question…what’s next? Here’s a short list of hopes/dreams/possibilities. A friend recently called them “anti-dreams” because they are definitely out of line with the American Dream, and we had a good laugh about it:

Next 3-5 years, "Anti-Dreams":

• Expand ministry in Baton Rouge by recruiting and training people to help with a weekly Bible study program for teens and to coach football, basketball and soccer throughout the year
• Learn Spanish
•  Buy a used minivan so I can continue to taxi kids around – more kids, more seatbelts, more room for all of the random equipment I am constantly toting
• Buy a house in the neighborhood where I serve that can be a safe place and foundation for ministry
• After buying a house, certify as a foster parent and foster-to-adopt older kids in the system who are waiting for a family and a place to belong
• Whatever other unexpected things God asks me to do along the way 

Of course, if you read the reflection above, you know the next 3-5 or 10 years could turn out this way. Or they could turn out completely different. And that’s ok!