I sported a summer tan and hair all pulled back, waitressing one night in my early twenties. As I approached a family of four, the littlest girl peered up and gasped, "Pocahontas!"
Oh, how easy it is for me to romanticize today the time I was mistaken for Pocahontas; today, when I look in the mirror and see a different woman. A woman who is no longer noticed by a magical character that she could actually dream or believe to be. Rather, she now is noticed for her character, for every tiny evidence of age that has molded who she is and has become.
Sometimes I struggle with the idea and reality of getting older, yet would I go back? The easy answer is, "never." Though my eyes are set a little deeper, they see deeper, too. Though, this face in not porcelain, it exudes joy. And, though this body is not as resilient, it has birthed four of life's greatest miracles.
So, as I continue to contend with getting older, I remember this life is temporary; it's a blink of an eye. And my stakes must continue to be, not in who I used to be, but in the One who has brought me this far.