Tomorrow I turn 42. My head always has a bit of a hard time wrapping around the fact that I am another year older. I never expected to live past thirty. Shoot, I actually thought I wouldn’t make it past my 20’s, if I’m being totally honest.

I remember being in Iraq and fully expecting to never make it home without getting hurt. I’d been in too many riots, fights, assaults, and escape searches to not get hit at some point. A few days later it happened; I got hit with a rock on the helmet, a smaller one bounced off my neck, and a large one hit my vest so hard it cracked the plate. I had just moved my hand, if I hadn’t my right hand would have been easily crushed. If I hadn’t had my vest on… a hit that hard to my chest would have been really bad.

My paranoia coupled with our continuous extensions had me fully believing I would stay until my life ended. When we finally flew over the last barrier of the base, I fully expected a rocket to take us out. Being forced to learn how to live left me confused and even a little mad.

By the time I was thirty, I didn’t want to live. I attempted suicide, a friend found me and took me to the hospital. Again, I was stuck with living when I was ready to die. It was years before I was finally able to be happy with being alive. Each year, I’m quietly amazed at how I went from searching for death to slowly embracing life.

Every year I’m surprised to be the next age. It used to be a sad, regret-filled surprise but now it’s one of simple amazement. What a gift God has given me. Sure, I’ve been able to do things, like speak, write, and help other veterans; but what I’ve been given is so much more than what I do. My family relationship has been restored. I’m an aunt to four awesome nephews and nieces. I no longer sit in mental torment. God took a broken, tormented, death-desiring Heather and gave me life.

I’m going to be 42 and I never expected to be this old. I’m so grateful and loving every second.