42.

I turned 42 last week. It feels pretty good. Much of the angst I felt at getting older, especially in my late 30s, has dissipated. I am increasingly aware of the marks of age sneaking up on me. But I’m not tempted to try hold them back, yet. For now the grey streak in my hair grows, and the wrinkles are given free rein. I’m fitter and stronger than I was at 41, but I’m building my old lady body rather than holding onto my young one. Most of the time.

I spend a good chunk of my working week with people half my age. I love that I get to read the Bible with young adults. To build friendships with them, and point them to Jesus as they make decisions about the trajectories of their lives. I love their curiosity, and openness to new people and experiences. I love the optimism and joy that accompanies their largely uncomplicated lives.

Last weekend we celebrated the marriage of two young adults at our church. A bunch more are due to be married in the new year. During the week a friend asked whether I felt nervous for these young couples. Men and women in their early 20s making this massive life commitment. And you know, I don’t think I do. At least not because they’re getting married.

My angst about getting older in my 30s was because life hadn’t turned out the way I’d expected. Unexpectedly single. Unexpectedly childless. Life wasn’t what I’d planned. I was working out how to reconcile the life I did have - wonderful in so many ways - with the life I’d anticipated.

The thing that’s struck me time and again in my 42nd year is, that is true for everyone. I look around at dear friends, at brothers and sisters at church, at acquaintances, and no one’s life has worked out the way they planned. People have complicated marriages, complicated children, complicated health. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Well, yeah. Of course.

And so no, I don’t feel more nervous for these young adults than any others. The reality is, regardless of their circumstances, life won’t work out the way they expect. For any of them. Things will be hard in ways they can’t anticipate. And my job isn’t to shield them from those difficulties, or to direct them toward a path where somehow they’ll avoid them. My job is to point them to Jesus. To teach them to know him in the Scriptures. To encourage them to trust him as they seek to make wise choices. To see them building deep, gospel-centred friendships, through which God will sustain them in hard times. My job is to prepare them to cling to Jesus for the life they can’t expect. And to know deep in their hearts that whatever life brings he is always good, always merciful and always loves them more than they can imagine.

At 42 that is my experience. Life isn’t what I expected. But it is good. God has been overwhelming in his generosity to me. In family. In friends. In ministry. In a myriad of other good gifts. And especially in the Lord Jesus.