Last week I celebrated my 49 birthday. And since we celebrate birthdays at the END of the year, that means I am now entering my FIFTIETH year.
Whoops. How did that happen??
While I don’t feel fifty, I can’t help but think about how each day of this coming year will be the fiftieth time I’ve experienced it. My fiftieth Christmas. Fiftieth Easter. Two score and tenth Fourth of July.
It feels significant.
If feels like I should be good at this by now.
And, in some ways, I think I am getting the hang of this crazy thing called life. And even if I’m not good at it yet, I’m definitely getting better. I have a better sense of what really matters and what’s important to me.
Like, money isn’t as important as I thought, but if I want to be comfortable in this world it’s more important than I’d like it to be. And while looks fade, skin sags, and my body is turning against me–when I realized the same thing is happening to everyone else it gets to be kind of funny (plus, I can’t see as well–bonus!). No one notices my saggy neck because they’re too busy looking at their own saggy eyelids.
I have yet to hit an age that’s upsetting to me. Thirty finally felt grown-up (sort of). Forty was a blur. And with fifty less than a year away I’m still mostly excited that it’ll be one more excuse to eat cake.
And so I intend to spend this year savoring all the things I get to do for the fiftieth time. Clearly, God has me practicing for something important and I’m excited to, one day, discover what that is.