I’m eating chicken sausage in the kitchen while the girls watch Planet Earth for the hundredth time and the boy eats at the table.

I turned 29 yesterday.

You know that mythical age that women somehow manage to stay for at least 30 years?  Yeah, I’m that old.  Don’t worry, next year I will be 30… and I will be fine with that.

Statistically, I only have about 30-40 years left.  Time is ticking down on my little clock. What have I done with 29 years?

At first, I’m so tempted to say that I’ve done nothing.  I’ve only left this humble time zone twice.  Only lived in this one state for the past 26 years.  Never lived in a room by myself.  Only traveled by air twice.  Haven’t even created a bucket list.

Little me, I just fold laundry, herd children, talk with friends, and cuddle with my husband.  I’m just ordinary.

I think it’s at this point that I have to step back and see the whole Story.  I’ve written before about how history is really just His Story.  About how all these little moments really matter because they’re writing a story of redemption far bigger than just these 29 years.

For 29 years, I’ve lived His Story.  And some of it has been mundane.  Some of it has been heart breaking.  Some of it has been laughter.  And none of it seems really remarkable.  But it is.  It is remarkable.  My story, my small part of His Story is remarkable.  Your story, your small part of His Story is remarkable.

Our story is remarkable because of the mundane, not in spite of it.  Its remarkable because we’ve changed the diapers, done the laundry, listened to our friends hurts and cried with them, cried ourselves, fallen, repented, and kept moving forward toward Him.

And maybe that’s the heart of His Story: our repentance, His Grace, and the unlikely redemption that God chooses to use us anyway.