Forward

I recently celebrated my 61st birthday.

I was never one of those people (mostly women) who freaked out over a "milestone" year. At 40 I was in the middle of raising a houseful of teenagers; there wasn't much time to think. The year I turned 50 I was lifting weights three times a week and ran a half marathon, and then took my first full-time job since I had children. In my 60th year I saw my last child get married, welcomed my tenth grandbaby, and started building a house on the farm.

I've heard it said that we slow down as we age. I'm still waiting.

I recently saw a meme that said, "If you knew me in my 20s, that was Season 1 me. The budget was low and the writers were having issues," and that got me thinking: if my life were a TV series, what season would I be in?

I feel like Season 1 would have been childhood and the teen years, maybe through age 18. It would have included all of my childhood experiences and introduced my whole family. My grandparents would have been included since they were an integral part of my upbringing. It would have been a "Father Knows Best" kind of show—small town, clean, happy, everything turns out hunky-dory in the end.

College would have been Season 2, unrecognizable if you saw Season 1. I was like a different person from 18 to 22 and although I made lifelong friends and had loads of fun, this was not a pretty time in my life. I made many stupid decisions. Did a lot of dumb things. Compromised my own safety more than a handful of times. There are things you don't tell your parents until after the fact, and there are things you never tell them. That was the drama of my college years. I'm thankful to have survived despite the long-term consequences. I would like to say I grew up some, but I don't think that actually happened.

Then marriage and all the baby-having would be Season 3. I would call this the docu-drama phase. When you (barely past college age) stand before 150 people and vow to love a person for better or for worse, you have no clue what you are saying. You think maybe leaving the cap off the toothpaste is going to be the "worse" part, but that's because you don't know the other person will empty his pockets onto the kitchen counter for the rest of your life and also curl the covers of books backwards and lay them down that way so they will never be flat again for the rest of eternity. Or that she will have emotional needs but not know what they are, so you can't fix them even if you want to. Then add crying babies and lack of sleep and a tight budget plus two completely opposite personalities, and it can get out of hand pretty quickly. Season 3 was a time of growth and finding out what commitment actually looks like on a daily basis.

Around 40, when I had five teens in the house, would be Season 4. Can you make a show that's a mix of drama and comedy? Dramedy? I loved this stage of family life more than all the others. I enjoyed my babies—at least the ones that didn't scream incessantly (sorry, Abbey)—toddlers were fun, those awkward middle-school years had plenty of good times, but having teens was the best. I felt like my children were actual people with personalities and opinions and we could do things together and have meaningful conversations about stuff other than LEGOs. My kids made me laugh more than anyone, just don't make me teach them how to drive.

Then they all finished high school and college and Ben and I became empty nesters. Since we started young, that was around age 54 for me. This was Season 5. One by one they married. Some spit out babies faster than we could update our wills and I still have to stop and figure out how many grands I have. (Children, please note: I am in no way complaining. Not a bit. At all. Keep bringing forth many progeny. Thank you and amen.) (Also, the current extent of the will is two cows per grandchild.)

Now here we are in Season 6, good at being by ourselves, learning what we really like now that we have time to think about it. Ben has learned he should have started cattle farming when he was 20. I have learned I have a voice, and if that sounds crazy to you, it's because you missed Seasons 1–5, which have been ferociously edited here to protect the not-so-innocent.

For myriad reasons I grew up feeling like I needed to make myself small, stay quiet, not make waves, keep my opinions to myself. I lived into that vision until a head-on car accident put me in therapy and I began dealing with all the events that made me shrink.

At 61 I've learned that God made me who I am for a purpose—maybe many purposes, some of which I may never know, but shrinking is not one of them. He gave me a voice to use it, not to hide it. I'm always surprised at who messages me privately after I write something, telling me how it struck a chord with them or encouraged them in some way. You don't know what people are going through and what little thing you say will be just what they need to hear in that moment.

So I speak—or write. You should too, and see who you minister to. You will be surprised.

I have no idea how many more seasons I have to go. I'm trying to learn to slow down and enjoy the journey, rather than just rushing toward the next goal. I want to savor the moments, which is hard to do when you're trying to get big things done. It takes daily self-reminders to look for the little ways God shows up and notice them.

I try to remember when life gets crazy and I feel rushed to pause and take a breath. Enjoy the moment because it will pass all too quickly. We can't go back, only forward.

There are no reruns.