Mr. Fantastic and I are only about three years away from turning forty. Gah, that seems crazy. Especially since I feel like we have only just begun this life of ours.
Honestly, though, I am kind of excited about a new decade. The thrill doesn’t stem from some kind of “forty is the new thirty” thing as much as a desire to get it over with already. It’s as if that number looms ahead of us, waiting for us with all kinds of purpose and destiny.
If the next three years are anything like the past three have been, I will be a totally different woman when I lean over a giant cake and blow out forty candles. So, I thought I would send a little time traveling letter to my future and let the good times roll.
Dear Forty-year-old Carrie,
See? It all worked out. You and I know that we hate waiting for the plan to emerge. The heart that longs for God to sort out the details is also the heart that looks up to heaven and shouts “WHEN? HOW? HURRY, PLEASE!!”
But there you are, all cozy and forty, and you are just fine. (By the way, I am hoping that you have had ample beach time these past three years. If you haven’t, don’t tell me. Let the dream live, girl.)
Remember when you wrote this letter, and the lines were forming quickly as if collagen decided to hop a plane for Florida and retire early? You decided that it didn’t matter. And it still doesn’t. Being forty will bring new losses in the area of vanity, but all this practice of embracing God’s blessings in your thirties will help on game day in your seventies, when the real beauty of age shines on you.
I’m so glad we decided that youth and beauty aren’t the same thing, that stretch marks lend character and point to our glorious purpose as mothers. We chose to see joy in laugh lines, and years of wisdom in a body that isn’t quite like it was in our twenties. Beauty is as beauty lives, and we are living with open arms to the signs of aging, waving our appearance like a flag that declares freedom and joy.
Currently the children are three, six, seven, and eight. Their love is the most amazing thing we have known. I have realized how much I brace myself for a day when they will make really bad choices and decide not to love me back. But, since they seem to only grow to love me more as the years pass by, I am choosing to assume that you, at forty, know a love like no other from them. You are blessed, girl.
In three years, these little ones will be six, nine, ten, and eleven. I know you miss these days when they are smaller, but chin up. You have mature hearts clinging to yours because God has been merciful to knit us together as a family. It’s more amazing than we ever could have imagined. Ugh. I love these four miracle people.
Speaking of miracles, how’s Mr. Fantastic doing? Thirteen years ago, we seriously won the love lottery when that man proposed. God has been so faithful to walk with us through this marriage. There is more love in it today than there ever has been before.
I wonder what the next three years will be like. I wonder what lessons you have learned about love. I hope that you have learned to be more patient, love stronger, and lift him up better as a wife. Pastoring is hard work, it is humbling in a good way, can be strenuous in a bad way, and a brave and loving wife is so valuable.
Ah, the pastoring. What is that lovely church like these days? We are about to go to two services right now and everyone is thrilled and terrified at the same time. Hard work lies ahead. But people live their best lives when the work is both difficult and meaningful. I know that we will all grow immensely as God grows our church. For that I am so grateful.
Finally, the writing. Right now I have no idea where this crazy train is heading. But the ride is most enjoyable. Is there a book between here and there? Is the blogging still going, still pouring out of your heart onto the keyboard? Don’t tell me. I’m not supposed to know yet. Little steps of faith, listening always for God’s calling into the hazy horizon, beyond my comfort zone is what I am meant for right now. Where the path leads, I don’t know. But I am happily taking each step.
Ah, yes, happily taking each step in Him. That’s at the bottom of all of this. Stepping along until I am there, at forty, more full of God and His love than I am today. That’s the dream. That’s the goal.
See you in three years,
Me
