Does a Number Mean I’m Over the Hill?

I remember vividly the day my Mom turned 40. My sister and I decorated her house with all things black. My sister told her that she was halfway to dead. My Mom spent most of the day upset!! We laugh about her reaction now. And all of a sudden I understand why she dreaded that day.

April is my birth month. And this one marks a new decade. I honestly can’t figure out how I got to this number so quickly. Most days I relive my youth as if it were yesterday. I recall summer days spent on a tractor with my Dad, long afternoons getting 4H projects ready with my Mom and Grandma and simple days of church camp that meant so much. I remember picnics in the yard, chasing fireflies at night and sitting on a tractor just enjoying my childhood.

I played sports. Volleyball and basketball were my favorite. I could run as fast as anyone. Now when I run, everything bounces and hurts. No one told me I’d need duct tape to hold “the girls” into place when I turned 40. No one told me that after having three kids, jumping on a trampoline and not peeing myself just a little would become impossible. No one told me that I would burst into tears at a moments notice just to think about my kids growing up or relive those days of my youth. Or simply typing the previous sentence…


So am I over the hill? I sure hope not. Because I can’t imagine life being limited by only 40 more years on this earth. My life here on earth will be a number. There’s always a heavenly eternal life. But it’s so hard to know what that one will be like. Other than perfect. I do read my Bible. But I fret over the earthly events that I can’t imagine missing.

But in between 40 and my next life, I want to achieve so much. I say everyday I want to use my God-given talents as I am supposed to be. But I never really know what those talents are and how I should be using them. Am I being the best Mom I can to my three kids? Am I being the best wife possible to The Farmer? The best daughter, sister, daughter-in-law, granddaughter, cousin, friend, to everyone around me?

So age is a number. This number is a bit hard to swallow. Mentally, I’m not 40. I’m still at church camp, singing songs around a campfire. I’m still at the 4H fair, showing my pigs, modeling my handmade outfits, and running around with some of my dearest friends. Making plans for my life. I am living my dream. Despite the gray hair, bouncing anatomy and leaky bladder, my life is blessed. All 40 years of it.