I’m officially 40.

In those years, I’ve walked the slums of India and fed children who wouldn’t have had a meal if we weren’t there that day. I’ve pick-axed my way through the brush of remote Honduras. I’ve washed the feet of the destitute in Mexico. I’ve prayed with the homeless and grieved with those I love.

I’ve birthed a child and adopted four more. I’ve questioned whether I was capable of raising five kids. I’ve been discouraged, challenged, and overwhelmed. I’ve thought I knew everything, and realized I knew nothing. I’ve grown and evolved and I find myself here.

I had someone ask me the other day if it feels weird to be turning 40. I’ve always anticipated that it would, but 40 feels…comfortable. I am in a place in my life where I am confident and relaxed in my own skin. I don’t fret over what people think of me; I embrace differences and am intrigued by philosophical diversity. I’m not scared of conflict; I am more interested in working to find resolution. While I worry over my kids and pray for their futures, I also understand their lives are completely out of my control and it’s not my job to micromanage them or try to make them fit into boxes I’ve designed. There’s a lot of freedom in that.

I don’t know when my last day on earth will be, but I do know that my best days are ahead. My quiver is full of these little (well, not so little anymore) arrows, and what a blessed woman I am to have a partner beside me to navigate through this life. I understand any of this could be taken from me at any time, and that it’s vitally important that I seize the day, don’t miss opportunities because of fear, and that I always live every day to its fullest.

So, here’s to 40. As the saying goes, “Life really does begin at forty. Up until then, you are just doing research.” 😊