Birthday

God I woke up this morning and just lay there for a minute. Didn't check my phone. Didn't look at the notifications. I just lay there and breathed. Because today is my birthday. Another year. I made it to another year. And something about that hit me different this time.

This past year changed me, God. I'm not the same person I was twelve months ago, and I don't think I fully realized that until right now. There were things that happened this year that I didn't plan for. Things that broke me open in ways I didn't want. Losses I wasn't ready for. Conversations that rewired the way I think. Moments where I had to look at myself honestly and not all of it was pretty.

But here's what I'm realizing this morning every single one of those hard things taught me something I needed. The pain wasn't random. The struggle wasn't wasted. You were turning all of it into something. Into growth I couldn't have gotten any other way. I'm stronger now, and not the loud kind of strong. The quiet kind. The kind that knows what it's survived and doesn't need to announce it.

So thank you, God. Thank you for every single day of this past year. The ones that felt like gifts and the ones that felt like battles. Thank you for mornings I didn't want to get up and got up anyway. Thank you for laughter that caught me off guard. Thank you for people who stayed and even for the ones who left, because that taught me something too. Thank you for this breath, right now, on this new morning. I'm alive. I'm here. And that is not a small thing.

God, I don't want to just make a wish today. I want to make a prayer. And not for the stuff people expect not for success, not for money, not for some checklist of achievements. I want this next year to mean something. Really mean something. I want to be different in a year, not just older.

Help me slow down this year, God. I've spent so many birthdays racing toward the next thing the next goal, the next milestone, the next version of myself that I thought would finally be enough. And I'm tired of that. This year, I want to be present. I want to sit at the table and actually taste the food. I want to listen when people talk instead of waiting for my turn to speak. I want to notice the small, ordinary moments that I usually blow right past.

Deepen my relationships this year. Not more friends deeper ones. Give me the kind of conversations that change me. Help me show up for the people I love in ways that actually matter, not just convenient ways. And God help me let people show up for me, too. I know I'm not great at that. I keep everyone at arm's length and then wonder why I feel alone. This year, I want to let people in.

So here I am, God. Another candle on the cake. And as I blow them out I'm not wishing. I'm praying. I'm praying that this next trip around the sun is less about proving and more about living. Less noise, more presence. Less rushing, more noticing. Thank you for another year. I don't take it lightly. I receive it with open hands and a full heart and I'm so quietly, deeply glad to be here.