An extra one in celebration of my birthday!

I celebrated my 50th birthday on Easter Sunday this year. I got some really funny cards (mostly from my mother-in-law!) and I was treated to some very special gifts both practical and just for fun. I have celebrated with my kids, my husband, my parents, and my mother-in-law. I will celebrate some more with Rich’s sister, Ginger and her hubby, Dave later this month and in August a week of celebration with my best friend Nancy and our dear friend Lisa (who introduced us at 12 years old). I met up with a bunch of girls I went to high school with to celebrate all of us turning 50 this year and we had so much fun we’re talking about doing it again. (Meeting up that is, but turning 50 again is ok with me!)
Celebrating, planning the celebrations, being surprised by the celebrations have all been the way to turn what to some people is a difficult age to face into the most wonderful birthday I’ve had so far. But I am finding that becoming 50 is a joyful (even if somewhat doctor filled) time. I looked in the mirror recently and noticed 3 deep lines on my left cheek bone and wow, when I smile the crow’s feet dance all over my eyes! But somehow, that’s ok. I stood back and looked not at the whole of my hair, but just the top where the natural crop is shining through and realized, I really LIKE my gray hair. Now, I know that is almost un-American. But I can’t help it. I really like it! I can’t wait to grow it all out gray. I want long gray curls before I turn 55. That’s an attainable goal:0)
And I have thought about why all this aging is ok with me when I am surrounded by a culture that screams “You must do all you can to stay young, to look 20 years younger than you are!” And I think I get it a little. First of all, I had 2 grandmothers who wore their age well. I don’t mean they looked younger. Quite the opposite. My maternal grandmother, Mom Mom as most of my friends and family knew her, had silver white hair at 38 years old and was proud of it. Yet, her youthful vigor and amazing strength out-worked me, out-lasted me, time after time. She was amazing in so many ways. My paternal grandmother also gave me something to look forward to. One thing I remember is that her dark hair lasted while streaks of silver slowly began to coat through her locks. I thought she was so pretty and I never told her so. But she was as active and lively, full of life and friends right up until she passed on. I have a treasury full of sweet memories with both of them and I know that is a precious thing. More than that, I want to be that kind of grandmother. I want to be remembered by my grandchildren for the vigor and accomplishments they saw when I am 60; and I want them to remember the fun they had with me when they are turning 50 (Lord willing).
Recently our seminary class had a class on goal setting and starting with Life goals. That lesson really spun my wheels and I have moved out with intention from that point. This blog is one of the results of that class. Coming just weeks before my BIG birthday, it struck a chord.
Although our society, our culture does not honor age, scripture does. It says that children’s children are a reward, that silver hair is a crown for the “aged”; and equates age with what should have become wisdom along the way. I want to stand before my Father, before my Savior, filled up with His precious Spirit, with my long gray hair, crows’ feet, and grand canyon face crevices and hear Him say “Well done. . .enter in”. Even more, I want Him speak the name of His child, my name on His lips, and know that I have served him better in my last than in my first days. I want to know that what I leave behind simply points others to the truth of His love, of His forgiveness, of His incredible desire for us to know Him and to know that He loves us. So I plan to spend the next 40 or 50 years accomplishing these things.
I have laughed as well-wishers make comments about becoming middle aged or NOW being over the hill. I mean I don’t know how ya’ all count, but the average age for a woman in this country is 85 and half (or midway to) is not 50, sorry. As for that hill, honey, I am sliding down the other side with a woohoo and a weeeeeee slipping through my teeth as I head toward the goal line. And with what I hope is a bit of wisdom, I encourage you to count the blessings and trust Him with the pain of life; take life serious for you only go around once, but not too seriously; and if you haven’t done so, make yourself a life goal list, then get to it! If you get stuck call me, I’ve got a few ideas. Blessings. Cheri