I stare into the bathroom mirror as I get ready for the day this morning. I launch into loud conversation and Mr. S., in the other room, hears me.
Still examining my makeup-less face, I mutter something off the cuff about the passage of time and not wanting to get old and gray.
“In a few months,” Mr. S. says, “you’ll be closer to 30 than 20.”
And he’s right. He cherishes numbers, so this isn’t meant as a jab. It’s meant as fact.
Truthfully, 30 isn’t even close to old, and I’ll celebrate before I’ll balk. I can’t exactly pinpoint what I’m afraid of.
But still, my mind begins to race at this realization. Closer to 30 than 20.
Do I, in haste, launch a 26-things-before-26? Do I finally bite the financial bullet and pay for a gym membership and run-run-run to preserve youth? Do I dive headfirst into a jar of anti-wrinkle, anti-gray serum cream lotion something?
I wish I could say peace came like a flood and grace swept over me. (It didn’t.) But I close my eyes and tilt my head to the sky and whisper a short thank you. With time comes wisdom, and I’ve been rather short on that these days.
More than a perfect complexion, I need wisdom.
More than avoiding crows feet, I need to embrace laugh lines.
More than lamenting the passage of time, I need to see its lessons, strength and blessings.
It would take posts and posts and days and weeks to begin considering all the rich blessings time has brought. Life is difficult and uncertain these days, but there is a solid peace in the middle of it all. Time is fleeting, and blessings are many.
So I go back to getting ready for the day and sip my coffee as I coat my lashes in mascara. Closer to 30 and praise God for that.