The Birthday Post

It hit me yesterday that my birthday is looming. After a few minutes of calculation, I discovered that it would be my 43^rd birthday. (That is not in any way a request for email, texts, or Facebook messages saying, “Happy Birthday”, but if that should happen, I wouldn't be too upset either. :) ).

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...” came to mind. The Charles Dickens novel often makes an appearance in mind in large part because I hated it. It was assigned reading in Mrs. Banks' 9^th grade English class. I didn't understand so much of it. Only later did I realize I didn't understand it because I lacked the context for much of it. I keep telling myself that I'll go back and re-read it with the wisdom and knowledge of an adult but I'm afraid I'll always have a sour taste in my literary mouth concerning this one.

But those opening lines are apropos of the way I look at growing older. In many respects it is the best of times. Being more comfortable in my own skin is definitely a good thing. Knowing more—yet understanding the value of how little I really know—excites me for the future. Having the security of a nearly 19 year marriage trumps the insecurity and angst of dating any day. Watching my child grow and mature is a joy to me.

And the worst of times? Well, I don't know that they are the worst but...

There are the obvious signs of aging, which eventually no amount of hair color, make up, plucking, and denial changes. Things simply happen. While I have more time to read and study, I also find myself having to take more notes to remember that which I have studied. Watching my child grow and mature reminds, with frightening regularity, that I too am, ahem, maturing.

Added to all of this is the fact that I recently read some of my journals from ages sixteen to about 18. Can someone please, by all that is good and just, have mercy on everyone and please burn those when I die—if I haven't already?

Finding those caused me to think, not what would I go back and tell myself if I could because of course I can't, but what do I do differently to insure that the 43 year old version of myself doesn't repeat the same mistakes the 16 year old made. Because, the decision making process (or lack thereof) begins with the heart and, we all know, that sometimes the heart doesn't mature at the same speed the rest of us does.

At 16, I never thought I'd see 40—let alone 43. I was lucky that cancer didn't kill me, even luckier that I wasn't killed by my own stupidity.

As I try to be a fairly simple person (and at my age, simpler is actually better—there's a much better likelihood that I'll actually remember it), I'll keep this short.

It all matters. Everything, from clothes to books to movies to music and beyond, matters because it is all reflective of what you think about yourself and your God. For some, the two may be nearly the same. If I claim the name of Christ, then everything in my life is worthy to be thought of under His direction. There is nothing in my life that can be classified as “neutral”.

Don't think too highly of myself (or my intellect, humor, station in life). In doing so, I necessarily think less of others. I devalue them whether that is my intention or not. I fail to see their worth as image bearers of their Creator because my own worth is shining so gloriously in my eyes.

Grow up. One would think this would be self-evident and happen whether we are actively thinking about it or not. It doesn't. How many 40 somethings do you know that are trying to recapture some lost sense of their youth? Very often, in our quest for that which we think we want most, we end up selfish, bitter, and alone.

Be thankful. It sounds so simple. It is, in fact, the hardest thing. As we grow and mature, we recognize that some of the things we are most thankful for were the hardest, most heart-wrenching things. Why are we thankful for that? Because it drove us to think past ourselves, to dig deeper into that which we believe—or maybe it changed what we believed altogether, in a good way.

Read. Listen. Read wide and much. Listen, really listen, to what others say. You'll learn something, I promise.

Anticipate. Look forward. Growing older may not be a cake walk. Rest assured, there will never be enough money, time, health, or energy. There is still much to be gleaned from the middle to late years. God's grace is sufficient for (and even in) this.

These are just a few things that I hope I do better at 43 than I did as my younger self—even just a year or so ago!

And I hope that I have the good judgment to share these things with the young version of my daughter with grace, knowledge, and trust that God will teach her in His own ways.