Today begins the countdown.

(Cue ominous music now.)

Today, we are 30 days out from my 30th birthday.

As long as I can remember, I have wanted to be older. I grew up as the oldest child who, due to my parents' extra jobs and college classes at night, took care of her younger siblings. I also grew up close to my cousins, who are five, six and eight years older than me. Reportedly, they saw me as a toy to play with when I was young, but as we grew up, I’m quite sure they saw me as an equal. Surely they didn’t see me as a kid trying desperately to be like her older cousins…right…?

Ahem.

Anyway, for many years, I’ve wanted to be seen as mature, responsible, capable – all qualities typically associated more often with those older than myself. The thought of getting older never struck me as a bad thing; rather, it was a promise that someday, I’d get the respect I deserve.

(I acknowledge freely that this is all ridiculous, including the presumption that I deserve respect. Because believe me, I didn’t have in mind the normal respect we each deserve as humans, as children of God. Nope, I craved the kind of respect typically reserved for superstars or prodigies. That’s the kind of respect I wanted – and was sure I would get when I was older.)

Enter reality. Enter the passage of time. Enter life.

So, here I am today, older and maybe a tad bit wiser. I have a few wrinkles under my eyes, and last year, I found a gray hair. I find myself talking about “kids” – you know, adults in their 20s who do crazy things like text and Twitter and have toys like iPods and Wiis. And I find myself comparing my current life, my real life, to the one I envisioned when I was younger.

• Am I wildly successful, taking over the world one board room or published article at a time?
• Do I have a house full of kids who adore me, their cookie-baking, game-playing, craft-creating mother?
• Have I saved and invested wisely, ensuring a comfortable retirement, while still tithing and donating a significant percentage of my income?
• Have I traveled the world, started a business, become a size 10, run a marathon, learned to cook gourmet meals?

Ummm…no, no, no, and nooooo.

It’s questions like these, comparisons like that, that have dogged me the past year. I should have seen it coming when my husband turned 30. After all, that meant my doomsday was only two years away. But it didn’t sink in until I got the invitation to my 10-year class reunion. That’s when the real insecurities came. And they didn’t creep up, friends. No, they ambushed!

And I’ve battled those feelings for over a year now. But today, as my 30th birthday looms nearer, I’ve decided to truly fight back. Let’s try some different questions.

• Do I have family and friends I love dearly and who love me?
• Has God blessed me beyond comprehension, despite my mistakes, my stubbornness, my me-ness?
• Have I learned more about myself, about God, about the world, about life than I ever realized I didn’t know?
• Am I stronger, more confident, more compassionate, more educated, more humble, more me than I was 5, 10, 15 years ago?

Yes, yes, yes, and yesssss!

And here’s one more – am I looking forward to the next 30 years, and the next after that, because I know that God has an amazing plan for me, a journey and adventure that only He could create?

Yes!

So, as I look back over my life so far and look forward (kind of) to this momentous day coming up, I'm thankful for my life experiences and so many blessings I won't be able to name them all this month!

Which birthday has been your favorite so far? Or, if you're so inclined, which has been the worst?