Turning 31, I felt like the fog was lifting. That first year of being a mother of two under 3, trying to find my footing, implement better systems, not get lost in the shuffle while being a stay-at-home mom for the first time in my life, etc., was a doozy. They say going from one to two is easier because you know what to expect, but I did not feel like that was true for me. The familiarity of motherhood doesn’t make the navigation of it any easier; especially when you are changed as a woman each time. Yes, you are familiar with the concept, but it’s an entirely different YOU that has to be cared for and recognized.

The mornings were early and the days were long, so I spent that year leaning into writing down my gratitude. In one of my entries, on October 6, 2015, I wrote, “I’m thankful for a restful weekend. I'm thankful for my little family. I'm thankful for clean rooms and bedding. I'm thankful for joy. I'm thankful for happy children during errands. I'm thankful for nap time. I'm thankful for ice cream at Wendy's for free. I'm thankful for late dinners, new movies, and family time.” I needed God so fiercely in that season as I continued to grieve while being thankful yet feeling like I had to choose between the two.

31 also found me wrestling with the idea of being a daughter. In my book IN A HIGH PLACE, I share something my former Pastor would always say and that is, “There’s something about death that makes you think about life.” It’s something about motherhood that makes you think about your place as a daughter. How could a girl who battled feeling abandoned by her father find shelter in the beauty of a Heavenly Father? I felt at odds with my spirituality and struggled with coming to peace with the feelings of emptiness. But in September of 2015, one of the speakers at our women’s conference shared a scripture I had heard a million times before but in the season I was walking through it was as if I was hearing it for the first time. That scripture was Psalm 139 with specific emphasis on verses 17-18 (NIV): “How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I could count them, they would outnumber the sand. When I awake, I am still with you.”

In 2017, I spoke about that moment in 2015 and what it awakened within me.

If I could place an anchor for year 31, these verses are where I would rest. Everything after this moment is filtered through this scripture from every dream, interaction, and decision. My greatest revelation that would serve as the catalyst for everything I would accomplish in my thirties is because of this moment in September 2015.

My dreams were more vivid about people and places and in the moments I felt so alone in my journey as a mother and wife, God would send someone to remind me I wasn’t alone. It was in year 31 that God told me to write my non-fiction book entitled, WOVEN: Womanhood and Unveiling God’s Beauty. The decision to lean into gratitude in the chaos of those early years, the questions I asked myself about being a daughter, and the stories other women would share with me about feeling alone and isolated began to serve as the foundation for the concept of this book:

“Woven is a voice for women who have stories they are afraid to share. Women who are being used and chosen to deliver the soundtrack of womanhood. Conjoining every facet of the titles we wear and the roads we’ve walked. Our stories are interconnected. Stitched to the walls of our womanhood. Tacked to the corkboard in the dorm room of our growth. Pressed down in the pits of our bellies: a seamless embroidery of patchwork. A quilt of unity we wear as capes when we face discrimination, shame, or fear.”

It would take me two years to finish writing that book. In the process I leaned into sharing my story through blogging, on periscope (do you remember that app), at women’s groups, with our marriage retreat group I started (Empower M.E. now Married and Miller) all because God told me to. At 31, I didn’t think I was worthy enough and I damn sure didn’t believe I could speak about the power of our stories when I was still trying to figure out what mine meant, but I look back fondly at that year in my thirties. I did something I never imagined I’d do in leaving my job. I spent time with my babies in a way I wouldn’t have been able to if I continued working, and God never stopped reminding me that His thoughts towards me outnumber the grains of sand.

I turn 40 on July 9th.

If He never does anything else, He’s done more than enough.

Selah.

Almost Forty: A Reflection of 31 and the Beauty of Bravery