Over the Hill

Tomorrow I'm turning 40. The big 4-0. Middle-aged. Old.

On Friday night, I sat in an old theater next to my oldest son, now grown into a man, watching The Nutcracker performed live by students from his and Rebecca's school. It really was too much. I love Christmas, I love ballet, I love my son. Not in that particular order. I can't help but remember seeing the Nutcracker with him when he was just about 8 years old. Or even further back, being the age he is now and that very last Christmas that it was just the two of us. Twenty years ago. So much has changed and I couldn't ask for a better life.
I thought I was so grown up at 20. Now 20 years later I look back and think, "What an idiot!" I had no clue what I would encounter, overcome, endure, enjoy. Now I sit here on the brink of 40 and with more foresight, I'm thinking that this can't be the middle. This can't be the biggest milestone of my life. This can't be "old." I feel as if I'm just getting started. I've finally come to terms with who I am and what I'm really supposed to be doing around here.

I've learned not to fear, but to hope.

Disappointment is not something to worry about, keep asking, keep trying, keep going.

Enjoy where I'm at, who I'm with, what I'm doing right now.

Don't be jealous of the young, they don't know what I know. Instead let them be a hope, an inspiration.

Life is good, even at 40...


The Gang's All Here

Every time I sit down for a meal with my children I am engulfed by a scene reminiscent of a rowdy banquet in the halls of Valhalla. Complete with barbarians eating with their hands, course jokes, and the pounding of fists on the table. This family is loud. I owe it to the patriarch of the brood with his booming voice and broad shoulders. This man might hail from the South, but he's got Norseman in his blood.

People join us in our feasting and celebrations and leave with ears ringing and heart fluttering wondering how we ever carry on a conversation. Its not always this way, but these kids brought together in one living room, take up the floor and couches, and enjoy being smack dab in the middle of all the excitement. There are no quiet dinners in our house.

Still, I get in these doldrums sometimes in thinking my own thoughts and speaking with other women and I start wondering what more I could be doing out there. My life seems so small, my footprint just a speck. There are multitudes of other women out there thinking the same things. Does my life matter? Who am I? What am I doing with my life? Am I just a mom?

And therein lies the answer...just. We see just as a bad thing and fail to see what that definition even means. In a sense, by defining ourselves in this matter, we are living small. Paul has a word to say on the matter:
2 Corinthians 6:11-13 Dear, dear Corinthians, I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way. I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!
Being a momma isn't a small thing. But thinking that is small thinking. When you begin to look at the work that you do as meaningful and life changing, as motherhood is, you realize how grand and wondrous it truly can be! What greater work can there be?
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...