Confession: I'm 41 years old.
But in my mind, I'm somewhere in the 16 - 20 range.
I can go to the grocery store, walk out with several bags of groceries that I paid for with a piece of plastic, and marvel that they let me do it. I feel like I've gotten away with something.
I look at these little mini-me's, and cannot believe that God thinks I am responsible enough to raise them. That anyone thinks I'm responsible enough to raise them. I can't keep a plant alive for a month, much less children for 20+ years.
I remember what my sister said about the moment she realized she was old. I was driving my car to the mechanic's, and she was following behind me to bring me home. She said that when she looked through her windshield at me, be-bopping along to some music on the cassette player (her words, not mine) she decided that she was old. If she was in sixth grade when I was born ... and I was now driving my own car ... that would make her ... oh, never mind. In her mind, she was old.
That moment just hit me on Friday.
