Next week I will turn 50 years old. I found this little piece of my writing from a few years ago that describes what growing up looked like for me in my 40’s,
Years ago, I was in my smug thirties, so self-assured that I considered myself a lifestyle expert. I think our move to Utah in 2012 was the end of many things, including the belief that I know very much. Over the years, my writing about parenting and education has slowed, and a trend towards more religious thought comes through…
To grow up is to give up idols, even the ones that we thought were safe to keep: dependence on a friend, youth, surroundings, talents, processes, and routines.
To grow up is to be shaken, again and again, out of comfy shoes to march in new ways.
[In my 40’s], “growing up” looks like squared shoulders and brisk walks into unfamiliar rooms as a [church] leader, sometimes seeing smiles fade with my approach. It’s white knuckles, holding on to a few words that are true. It’s finding meaning in the warmth of the sun hitting my hair as I pray before facing a challenge. It’s a racing pulse while saying the things God puts into the heart. It’s choosing silence in order to snuff out animosity. It’s discerning light, despite people expressing doubt and fear. It’s goodbye after goodbye. It’s disappointing people. It’s watching myself become ridiculous and also deaf. It’s ignoring the urge to blend in. It’s giving, despite an absence of response or a negative response to the gift.
This was written in 2020, and in the four years since this time, I have more to add. Mostly, it’s that growing up also brings a new depth of joy: Joy in family, the joy of hope, and the joy of finding God so involved in my life.