Birthday yesterday! I am now 42. My age is now the meaning of life. 

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Grab your towel and read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

All in all, a pretty good day I’d say.  Lovely flowers delivered from my mom and dinner with campus ministry people rounded out the day nicely.

Rest of the week is pretty full and thinking about it, I’m kinda tired. However, I’m not tired… like… old kind of tired.  When I was a kid or even in my teens and twenties, I could never visualize myself at 40. Couldn’t really even visualize myself beyond about thirty. Yet, here I am. Never would have dreamed I’d be here, but here is where I am. Maybe I’m supposed to feel old, but I don’t. Not any more than yesterday or the day before.

Seems like I’m supposed to worry about it. I’m supposed to worry that I don’t have children and I don’t have a husband. I’m supposed to worry about my retirement and where I am in my career. I’m supposed to worry about my savings account and wrinkles and presbyopia and skin cancer.

But here’s the thing–twenty years ago, I couldn’t even visualize my life. Even if I could, I’d never have been able to imagine the here and now that I am, much less the way I got here. The labyrinthine pathway, chased by the hound of heaven. So if I can be here and be happy when I couldn’t even picture it, much less worry about it, then worrying about those things isn’t going to help either.

Being in the here and now, walking one step at a time and doing the best that I can at any given moment has gotten me to a future (present?) that I couldn’t imagine.

I guess if it’s not broke, don’t fix it! So, here’s to the next however many years I’m blessed to receive that I cannot even imagine yet!


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