I am also feeling ambitious … in one week I will turn twenty-five.

Twenty-five.

I am almost fifty.

I am at least half way there.

Growing older has never scared me — I’ve embraced that I will gray early and I’m okay with wrinkles as long as they tell of my smiling lips and happy eyes.

But I am afraid of not getting enough done.

By the time I turn fifty I could have grandchildren … by that time I want have had a life brimming full of experiences and character; a life that tells the story of a woman who labored for eternity, for love, and for the right to tell her grandchildren what one person can do when they put their mind to it.

I don’t want to conquer the world, mind you. I don’t want a full bank account, worn out suitcases from seeing the world, or even copies of my own published works.

I want small things. Like the knowledge of herbs and how to deliver a baby; how to teach a child math while keeping sane; how to love a man for five years, ten years, fifty years and make it look like we were still fifteen. I want to know what it feels like to see a need and meet it as well as minister to the Body of Christ through the talents God has given me. I want to be like the steward who was given a little and turned it into a lot.

Here are ten little goals for this year. They are simple and straightforward but they are a start. I know how overwhelming not meeting specific goals can be and I want to avoid that trap.