I’m turning 40 tomorrow. The funny thing is I keep forgetting. And when I do remember, I find myself watching my children more, trying to embed deeply into my memory the flavor of being surrounded by six of them all day long. I’m listening to them more, hugging them more, looking into their eyes more. Recently, I put out the plates to prep them for supper portions and just stood there looking at them all. I felt a little like I was mourning. Today, a full life of husband, home and children. Tomorrow….what?
I’m really not trying to borrow trouble. But twice I’ve been told by well-meaning older women that 40 was the beginning of the end. Upcoming: aging in warp speed, the end of fertility, and rebellious teens (I’m still not buying that one, I don’t care how stupid that makes me).
It’s a little depressing. Even though I did get carded last week buying an Irish beer for my husband’s St. Patrick’s Day supper (THAT was funny).
Sometimes I really doubt myself about how content I really am. Maybe I’m not *happy* at all, but just snowed under delusions of how blessed my life is. Why do I feel *patted* on the head by people who claim to understand more or know what life’s all about, but can’t seem to walk in their own peace with Jesus Christ? Why do I even care? I hear 40 is also when you begin to really not care what other people think. But even that seems pretty self-serving, too. I do care about people. Mostly that they would be saved and come into His rest. Which means they generally know that. Pat pat pat.
So I looked at the long counter of empty waiting plates and I just got teary-eyed. I want to be my best and give it, too. I want to Jesus to complete His work in me, now, before I die. I want my husband to have an amazing wife, and my children to have a steadfast and faithful loving mother. I want my lips full of praise all day long and my heart full of faith and not fear. If forty is the beginning of the end, then I am doomed. Because certainly I have not arrived at any sort of mountain top yet. And my life is not about my *want*s anyway; it’s about God’s working in my life to mirror His Son, more and more. I just wish I could look in the mirror already and say, “Oh, hi Jesus!”
I wish I were happier about my birthday. But I think my Father is pleased with it, so where else shall I go? Tomorrow I am 40. By God’s grace.
Psalms 51:10 Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.