“This fiftieth year is sacred—it is a time of freedom and of celebration…”

 ~ Leviticus 25:10a (CEV)

If how I was feeling the morning of January 1st was any indication, this was going to be an interesting year.

As I blinked my eyes open through a haze of dreams, sleepily, happily I mentally replayed the night before:  In a beautiful display of passion, persistence and sportsmanship, my college alma mater had pulled out a stunning end-of-game bowl victory to usher in the happiest of new years for their fans.

“It’s a new year….”  A cheerful thought shape-shifting like mercury; what started as a smile was quickly extinguished by the fire in my knee.  Due to an ARE-YOU-KIDDING-ME? temporarily debilitating injury, my room might as well have been at Everest’s peak.  I was alone in our guestroomthe only bedroom downstairs.

Now wide awake but resisting morning’s nudge, my good cheer was buried under Reality’s avalanche:

I was born in 1963 and 2013 is the year I turn 50.

* * *

If you’ve been reading (in)courage awhile, you might remember when I wrote about The Year of Living Dangerously. My husband had accepted a new job that would require us to live in Germany for most of 2012 and my One Word to mark the year was adventure.  We packed our bags leaving family, familiarity and comfort zone behind in exchange for living (and for my husband, working) in a new culture and traveling to places we had previously only seen in pictures or read about in books.

It was grand adventure but we never saw it coming, how it would end:


It's the perfect day for a cliffhanger; please click to keep reading to see how THIS one ends!

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