A New Age
There were about 6 of us, if I recall correctly.
We were seated around a cute little table at an appropriately bougie restaurant celebrating the birthday of a young lady who was crossing the threshold into quarter life.
She invited the rest of us, women who were 10-15 years her senior, to lunch to give her some wisdom and encouragement for her next season. Honestly - it was a brilliant idea that I fully intend to steal one day.
We laughed a bit and reminisced about our own mid-twenty season. Fondly in some ways, others gave more cautionary tale than stroll down memory lane. And then the birthday girl asked a question that was innocent enough - something to the effect of, “what would you go back and tell your 20-something self?”
It started off quite benign as we began around the table - but then one answer in particular turned the tide, “make sure you take all the pictures you can now, because when you get my age (that age being 40 mid-ish) … “ and this is when a torrent of labeling what has gone wrong with faces and bodies as time as labored on began. Pulling at this and poking at that - each woman picking up as the other trailed off. It was all very, “it’s all downhill from here.”
This, I thought, is the best we have to offer? These women were no slouches - intelligent, gifted, beautiful, leaders, mothers, some directors and educators, some stay-at-home moms - I sat there, miffed. What was happening?
Aging has always been a popular trope foisted upon women - we don’t say our age if it starts with anything larger than a two as we are portrayed to be used up and out of touch once we enter tricenarian status and, God help us if we pop out a kid - this always results, apparently, in only yoga pants and stained t-shirts left in our wardrobe and obvious exhausted crows feet abounding. The horror.
I left that lunch bothered. Why were such amazing women, who had influence over many women, feeling the need to perpetuate this tired cultural norm? Why do we pick this up and give it to the next generation wrapped in a bow of self-deprecation with not a return tag to be found?
Now, I cannot say I have never participated. I have absolutely been in my feelings about my body, my age, stage in life, what once was and what will be. And I’m sure I have voiced it to someone who either never asked for it or innocently asked one question and was accosted by an answer fueled by insecurity or lament. If that was you, my apologies. Truly.
That day, however, changed something in me. The conversation may have been 10 minutes, but it weighed on my heart so heavy that it has added a mission to, well, whatever mission it is that I’m on.
This is the year of what I've been billing as “My Big Girl Birthday.” Your girl will be 40.
I try to say it proudly whenever I am asked about it. And it does hurt a little. That’s a bigger number, obviously, than I have been used to for all the decades I’ve decad-ed hitherto. But I am looking to change the conversation in my own small way. Proclaiming my gratitude for how the Lord has kept me thus far and how He’s going to use me going forward. Another decade of abiding - how blessed am I.
My 30s have been, well, a doozy to put it mildly - this is another post in itself.
My 20s were, well, a learning experience to put it kindly - this is a book in itself. Literally.
And over these last couple of years, the Lord has slowly brought me to such a beautiful place I’ve never been before. I cannot help but be excited and a little scared (in a good way) for what on earth as it is in heaven He’s got planned for me in this next decennium. Because there were about a million things I simply did. Not. see. Coming. In my 30s. Why would this be any different?
Shortly after the previously mentioned lunch, one particular passage of scripture sprang up in my mind:
“3 Also, teach the older women to live the way those who serve the Lord should live. They should not go around saying bad things about others or be in the habit of drinking too much. They should teach what is good. 4 By doing this they will teach the younger women to love their husbands and children. 5 They will teach them to be wise and pure, to take care of their homes, to be kind, and to be willing to serve their husbands. Then no one will be able to criticize the teaching God gave us.”
40 is by no means “old,” though it is “older” relatively speaking. As in, there are women younger than me who are old enough to be married, have children, homes, real life careers, etc. So, instead of running from the “o” word, which may as well be 4 letters instead of 3 the way we treat it, I am choosing to recognize that in my season of youth adjacence, I can - and am supposed to be - a blessing to those who are firmly in the middle of it.
As much as we all want to be Ms Proverbs 31, we have equal duty to be Ms Titus 2.
Typically, the week after my birthday is filled to the brim with one comment repeated by many voices, “It was your birthday? Why didn’t you tell anyone?” I’ve never understood that. I’m not one to make any announcements, have parties, tell anyone who doesn’t ask or make a big fuss. Why? Because, why?
This time, though, I am intentionally embracing this portion of my life louder than I naturally would. It’s important I feel. So, officially, Hey ya’ll, it’s finna be my big girl birthday. I am finally about to be a grown up. And I plan to use this beautiful new decade for all it’s worth, because I’m pretty sure that’s why the Lord gifted it to me. The plan is to dive in head first into this time without an ounce of chagrin. At least, I’m working on it. I will then tuck away any similar proclamations until the next numeral appears in front of a zero.
My prayer for you, for us, is that we embrace each new season as just that, a gift. That we would not let culture lie to us about the goodness of God - as each sparkling strand of silver that emerges from your head is a testimony that the Lord has kept you and intends to use the time He’s granted for His glory (though we may paint them their original hue from time to time). Age is not something you’ve been saddled with - it’s calculable evidence that the Lord is good and has decided to bless you with something only He can give, time.
I pray that we would pass on to the women coming behind us the truth that to graduate into a new age, whatever numeral it begins with, is an honor and privilege not to be taken lightly - and the body we are stewarding as we make this journey is a blessed mechanism that has carried us through life’s ups and downs thus far and has given us a worthwhile home to have fun in, minister in, love and live in.
So, here’s to the Titus 2 of it all. May we embrace the call forward with the excitement and grace it’s warranted.
