It is official: I am too old.

About six weeks ago, my advisor at seminary approached me to see if she could submit my name to someone at the National Council of Churches who was trying to put together a team of young adults to work on eccumenical issues. My advisor thought I’d be right for the part. However, I had to inform her that I was about to turn 30 and that I might no longer fit into the “young adult” range even if the NCC puts anyone under 40 in the “work with young people” boat. However, I kept my hopes up because I’d love to start working with bigger organizations and get my name out there. Alas, I was told yesterday that they were looking for folks in their mid-twenties. Now, I will just take it as a complement that my advisor thought I was in my mid-twenties but it might be time to face it: I’m never going to be young again. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I don’t believe it. They can take my pop music, my Chucks, my punk rock, my tshirts, and my skinny jeans from my COLD DEAD HANDS. TAKE THAT WORLD! YEE-HAW!

Actually, I’m fine with it. It was just a lost opportunity that I think would have been a lot of fun to be apart of. And it is a first, actually. It might possibly be the first time I’ve been rejected from a church activity because of my age. For a mainline denomination that is just getting grayer, that doesn’t happen to me too often.