When Mitch and I began planning to move into our new apartment, we realized the complex didn’t provide a washer or dryer. We would either have to buy new ones or rent a set for $50 a month. That wasn’t a negligible bill—it would add up to $600 a year, plus however long we needed to stay there before buying a house. 

We decided buying our own washer and dryer set was wiser in the long run. It’d be a bigger payment upfront, of course, but one that would save us money down the line. We liked the idea of keeping our future selves as much money as we could, so we googled, researched, and asked around for appliance recommendations. 

After a trip to Lowe’s and a very in-depth conversation with their washer-dryer expert (thank you, Betty!), we drove home having purchased our very first large home appliance. It was one of the most obvious you-are-an-adult, big-girl purchases I’d ever made. Me? Responsible and old enough to own my (our) very own washer and dryer? How did I get here? Where did the time go?

The sun set as we drove home, painting the sky a breathtaking shade of clementine sorbet. I stared out the window, dumbfounded I was somehow the person at Lowe’s buying appliances on a regular, old Wednesday night. As I looked at the sky in awe and wonder, a thought crossed my mind.

The Lord trusted me. At least enough to take care of a brand-new washer-dryer duo. On one hand, that may not seem like a big deal, but that’s also not nothing. That is some upgraded responsibility. That is adulthood. 

I want to be the kind of adult who takes responsibility for my life—for my words, my actions, my emotions, my routines, and now, my washer and dryer. If I am trusted to take care of these appliances, I am certainly called to steward every other area of my life. 

One of the hardest pills to swallow about growing up (in my humble opinion, because there are many pills to swallow) is that only I am responsible for my emotions, thoughts, and healing. Other people can influence or treat me differently, for better or worse, but how I respond and process it is up to me. There’s no one else to blame or point my finger at, even though sometimes that’d sure be easier. 

So, instead of wishing things were different and I could toss aside my responsibility when it felt convenient, I get to step up to the plate. I get to learn how I inherently see situations (I’ve discovered my first pass at things can often be negative), how I need to sift through my many thoughts and feelings, and what works best for me to move through them. 

I get to discover what past pain points are still stinging—or maybe even bleeding—and ask Jesus to heal them. I get to go to therapy, go on walks, and go to my journal when I need more immediate steps for processing. I get to be the advocate for my healing, both when there are boatloads of progress and when it feels like nothing will ever get better. And best yet, I get to see the redemption, miracles, and healing first hand when it comes to pass—because it will. With Jesus, it always will. 

These may not be the sexiest musings on growing up, but I’ve found them to be true, whether I like them or not. Adulthood is not for the faint of heart. Owning an appliance isn’t for a toddler; it’s for a responsible, often-over-the-age-of-20-year-old adult. And that comes with great joy and great responsibility. 

To those to whom much is given, much is expected. I don’t know about you, but I want to steward my life in a way that honors all God has given me. Because ultimately, I want to spend as much time as possible basking in His great glory, goodness, and joy. And I want to keep building the trust, love, and delight between us, whether that comes through a household appliance, a verse in the Psalms, or a rush of gratitude + emotion when I remember that no matter how long I’ve lived on this planet, I have a good Father who will take care of me all my days.