I turned 30 this year. The change of a decade has caused me to reflect a lot. This is the first time I’ve hit an age ending in zero and sort of wish I could go back a ways. At 10 and 20 years old I was still eagerly waiting to get older. That desire slowed down and stopped around 25 years old.
Still, I haven’t lived my first 30 years with a lot of regrets. I have four little ones who call me mom. Some days they make me feel old. Often they keep me acting young. Dance parties with a 4-year-old or running to rescue a daring 2-year-old hanging from the bookshelf gives me some exercise I might not get otherwise.
Pregnancy, birth, and a C-section have all left my body beat up . . . four times. But still, after each, I have recovered and felt strong and young again, at least some days. How resilient we humans are.
True, I am not quite as daring anymore. I think a bit longer before trying a waterslide. But I don’t want my age to have slowed me down just yet, so I still do young things sometimes.
I want to be young yet. It’s crazy to think I used to think that 30-year-olds were getting quite old, but not anymore. We are still young. Do the children see me as old now? I better keep up my fun side so they don’t consider me boring—not ready for that one yet.
Turning 30 made me think of unfulfilled dreams. Admittedly, I can’t think of so many now. I am living the dream mom life even though at times it makes me feel old. But I know we will get over that stage. However, I’ve suddenly realized that if I want to fulfill my dream of learning to do cartwheels, I had better get busy. Why have I kept making excuses? By 40 I might be too old. 30-year-olds can still learn cartwheels, right? I should get busy practicing so I just might have them learned by 31. Do you think I can do it?
I’ve learned that 30-year-olds still have the same needs as always: love, acceptance, dependency on God, and someone to believe in you. Both my parents have told me they were proud of me in the last few months. Even now, it still means so much.
I am so blessed as I have them with me as well as a wonderful husband who turned 30 some years ago. If you have 30-year-olds, go ahead and tell them they still make you proud. It will give them courage for the next 30 years.
I know God directs my path. Still, it feels strange to think of death and life. In the last year, I came close to seeing it the closest yet as labor complications led to an emergency C-section to save the lives of my baby and me. How does God decide how long we get to live?
I have a brother-in-law I never had the chance to meet. He would be 30 now too, but his life journey ended at 18 in an accident. We don’t get to decide the number of our years earthside, but we get to live them holding onto the Father’s hand. Even at 30, we realize we still can’t (and we never will) be able to live life on our own. We need others, and we need the Father.
Here’s to the next 30 led by a God who always has, and always will be, faithful.