Happy Birthday To Me: 40 Going on 5

Today, I am 40. I don't care who knows. It is what it is--and I'm still figuring that out.

Sometimes I pause at my reflection and think, "Wow. I'm the grown up. I'm the grown up? That can't be right."

The hair is noticeably graying. The liver spots (do we still call them "liver spots?") started to show up last year. The metabolism halted, almost to the day, when I turned 38. Arthritis has settled into my heels so that I can tell you if it's going to rain tomorrow, even if I can't walk right sometimes.

I hope I've honed the skill of expressing a strong opinion without venturing into the unbecoming arena of dogmatism. It may still not be pretty, but hopefully leaves room for others to work out their salvation somewhere other than in the darkness of my shadow.

I know that there are fewer things I'm willing to take a stand against, but I'm much more willing to risk it all for the few things that are worth it.

Strangely, somehow, the more I experience, the less I know. That's not to say age doesn't bring wisdom, because it certainly does. But it would seem that wisdom says, "You don't know as much as you thought you knew."

Age=wisdom=humility. And it took the last 5 years for that equation to move the 18 inches from my head to my heart. I'm wise enough now to know that the coming years, Lord willing, will teach me many more things that--right now--I don't even know there are to learn.

There is something else about turning 40. Something that surprises me.

It would seem that there is still a hurt little girl living inside my wrinkling skin. Though she is surrounded by a most supportive and loving husband and the 3 sweetest girls she has ever known--still she must pray for the grace to delight in the Lord. More love to thee, oh Lord. More love to thee.

She struggles with the pain of rejection. And it is made more profound by the silence that meets her on a day like this one--not just any other day. He was despised and rejected of men. But she is yielded to it, knowing that by it, she is being conformed to His image. That I may know Him and the fellowship of His sufferings.

She wants more than anything to be able to shake the dust; to let the dead bury their dead; to know how to honor.

But instead she prays to find that sweet spot where her Heavenly Father's care assuages her pining for the one whose love she cannot have. When my mother and father forsake me, the Lord will take me up.

Because in Him, she has promises. Promises uttered by the mouth of God, Who created everything from nothing and had compassion enough to give all to buy her back from death and hell when she betrayed Him. He loves her. And by His grace, she loves Him back. She can trust Him. He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock.

He will never leave her; never ignore her, never choose favorites above her. I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. She cannot be written out of His inheritance. No one can snatch them from His hand.

With Him, she can be. And then be forgiven for it.

He is lifting her head now, and she is looking around at the beauty of the day He has made. She is deciding to rejoice and be glad in it.

And so, I am off to take her and my lovelies to the zoo.