F O R T Y

I remember, so clearly, being about 8 years old, and attending the 40th birthday party of our friend and pastor, Paul Hunter. All the balloons were black with “Over the Hill” printed on them. It was a great party, but I remember asking my mom, “What does ‘over the hill’ mean?” She explained, something about being done with the first half of your life, and my little mind filled in the rest. That means…

…the rest is downhill? 

Yes, I was a sensitive child, but this distinctly bothered me. My own dad was several years older than Paul. Did this mean he was already on a steep descent? How could this be?

My, how things have changed. At least, in my perspective. Forty is young! True, I never dreamed that we’d celebrate Jeff’s 40th birthday today by anticipating the imminent birth of our baby (!), but I dare say there is nothing downhill about this man. He’s a climber, a fighter, a victor. No matter what physical strength comes and goes, his spirit is full of vim and vigor.

I have been struck this past year by this simple realization:

What the world values will decrease with age.

What God values can increase with age. 

Charisma will wane. Stuff starts to sag. Jeff won’t always be the fastest guy in the race. I dare say my most beautiful days have long gone by.

But Jeff, my love, you are most definitely a more godly, wise, humble, courageous, selfless, faithful, and admirable man than you were 15 years ago when I pledged my life to be your wife.

But here’s the thing, and this is what makes me admire you the most:

This growth of godliness-with-age does not happen automatically. 

Youthful foolishness, left unchecked, simply snowballs into aged foolishness.

It takes true strength not to become “set in one’s ways” but to grow in grace, humility, teachability, wisdom. It’s a trajectory of Christlikeness that will only increase with age.

Jeff, I see this trajectory in you.

Here you are: As I type these words I am sick in bed, sad and frustrated that I’m too sick to do much to celebrate your birthday. Most of our weekend plans have fallen through. I’m enormously pregnant, with a list of ailments as long as my leg and wishing I was a more fun wife for you right now. Not only that, but you are still recovering from a concussion! But instead of looking inward, you have selflessly, joyfully, and tirelessly served me. As we speak you are outside scrubbing the patio furniture because you know it would bless me. You are BBQing your own birthday dinner because I’m curled up on the couch. You are offering to attend to the ginormous rat that Dutch and his friend caught, but goodness knows I want nothing to do with it. You are keeping the kids outside so it can be quiet in here. And you are periodically checking on me, to see if I’m ok.

What man does that?

You. Because that’s what Jesus could probably have done, and every day you are growing more and more into his likeness.

It’s bittersweet today,  I know. It’s not only your 40th birthday, it’s Father’s Day.

And it’s your first Father’s Day without your father. 

And you are preaching and leading a church and a family today and recognizing milestones and preparing for a new baby and grieving the loss of your beloved dad. And just like that Little House episode we watched this week…we honor those we have lost by living in such a way that they would be proud.

I dare say you are doing just that. Your dad was always proud of you, and you continue to live in a way that would make him prouder than ever:

A wise son makes a glad father (Prov. 15:20).

He’d be gladder than ever to see you today. 

And so, my love: Happy 40th birthday.

{May we all grow in wisdom, and make our Heavenly Father glad. Thanks for reading.}