slide

I just turned 40, and I have never felt so old. I didn’t expect my 40^th birthday to be such a big deal, but it has gotten me rather discouraged.

You see, as a young person, I had a much different vision of the person I would be at age 40. I imagined that I would be firmly established in some great work, resulting in many accomplishments and victories. I thought I would be much more confident and able to teach others all the wisdom I possessed.

The opposite has happened. I have simply become more aware of how infinitesimally small my knowledge really is. I have become more aware of my tired bones and creaky joints. I think the trends and fashions of my teenagers are weird. I have never felt so old.

This is a new feeling for me. I have always looked rather young for my age, not quite as grown up or sophisticated as I should. When I had my first child at age 23, I looked like a teenage mother by people who didn’t know me.

Now I have white streaking through my dark brown hair, and I feel and look older than I ever had before. I know that 40 is still very young, not even middle-aged! I am still full of life and vitality…just sometimes I forget.

I took Courage, my three-year old to the park last week. He was complaining about being cold, so I explained to him that if he started running around, he would warm up. Then I demonstrated by running up the stairs of the jungle gym and dashing up and down the various bridges and towers. Courage thought this was great and joined in. He told me that I should follow him down the slide, so I complied. It was fun until I whacked my hip on the side. It wasn’t made to be used by a full-grown adult. I decided to stand back and watch Courage play.

Suddenly he rushed over to the swings with such enthusiasm, I had to follow. I sat down in the swing next to him. Why did I ever like these things as a child? They are too small and squeeze my hips painfully.

I gave it a try anyway. I started pumping my legs and began to lift into the air. My head began to spin and I got a bit woozy. I thought of my Grammy who would never ride the carousel with me because it would make her dizzy. I never understood why she would give up such joy! Now I understand!

Still, I could feel the cool, crisp wind in my face! It felt like I was flying! I was free, like a bird in the sky! This is how it feels to be a child again, hair blown back, face towards the sun. It was glorious!

It was then that God spoke to me.

“You look at your child with such delight and wonder as he explores and discovers his world. You recognize his potential and celebrate the man he will someday become. You are certain that he will accomplish great things during his life. He is so new and fresh, full of promise.

I see you that same way. I still see you as the young child with wide-eyed wonder, your face towards that sky as you “fly” on the swing. You are full of promise and potential. You are not old at all compared to me, the Ancient of Days. You are not behind schedule and it is not too late.”

I love to hear God’s voice! He energizes me and gives me hope! I was trying to wrap my brain around my new-found childhood throughout the next week and into the weekend when I attended the yearly Women’s Conference at my church, Life Center.

Many amazing women took the stage and shared about the outrageous love, mercy, forgiveness, faithfulness, and goodness of God. At the very end of the conference, a group of young women stood up to share prophetic words that God had given them about the conference attendees. Each of us attending had been given a special name tag that was hanging on a colored ribbon. There were nine colors and each color had its own prophetic word.

My color was pink and Tiffany began to talk about how pink makes us reminiscent of our childhoods.

“What I felt for you women is that God wants you to be able to just see something, see what you are going through, see your life, see everything around you through this different perspective of a childlike faith…childlike expectations…There is just this excitement and enthusiasm that is going to come on you and you’re going to be able to see things from a different angle and from that childlike perspective, and even when hard things come up that you would be able to just not lose your step. I just saw you skipping around.”

God’s voice at the playground had changed my perspective of myself. God viewed me as still full of promise and potential. God delighted in watching me as though I was a carefree and eager child. Perhaps I should think of myself that way too.

A woman I had never met came up to me during the conference. She had a head of completely white hair that was styled in a cute, hip way. She had a very young face (I later found out that she was only 46). She must have notice those white streaks in my hair because she said to me, “I just wanted to let you know that your hair is going to be totally white like mine. Mine started out very dark like yours, but I began to get some white hairs when I started having children.”

“I think your hair is very pretty.” I replied, wondering why she felt the need to inform me of the impending signs of aging knocking at my door.

“How old are you?” She asked.

“40”

“OH MY GOODNESS! I THOUGH YOU WERE IN YOUR TWENTIES!!!!” She looked taken aback by my actual age.

I raised my hands in spontaneous enthusiasm and shouted like a silly child, “THANK YOU JESUS! YES!!!! I look like I am in my twenties! THANK YOU JESUS!”

That women just made my day. I think I am seeing myself more that way God sees me, and I am so tickled about it!

I don’t think my children understand what “interior decorating” means.

I love to daydream about rooms in my house that I will remake into works of art. I enjoy looking at pictures in magazines and collecting ideas from TV shows and friends houses. I dream about getting yards and yards of inexpensive fabric at the PA Fabric Outlet for future curtains. I create floor plans in my mind, full of colors and patterns. When I think about decorating my bedroom, I think about fresh, light blue paint on the walls and a beautiful blue and white quilt for the bed.

I used to have daydreams for my children’s rooms as well. Areli’s room was going have purple bedding and yellow walls featuring lovely framed photos of Anne Geddes baby butterflies. Twelve years have passed since those dreams, and Areli no longer wants purple and butterflies.

Cooper and Calvin share a bright red bunk bed which matches nicely with their area rug of bright red, blues, and greens. Their walls still sport the pastel yellow, mint, and pink colors that were painted by the previous owner for their little girl. It doesn’t bother me too much because in my mind, their walls are the perfect shade of blue. At least we removed the sparkly chandelier.

Nine months ago we created a fifth bedroom in our home for the baby, and I have filled up a file cabinet in my brain with ideas for his room consisting of a many shades of orange and a lot of lions. The walls of his room are still stark and messy white, all patched with putty, waiting to be sanded and painted a warm yellowish, orangey, brown/tan color. The actual official color has yet to be researched and determined. Something like Sherwin Williams’ “Delicious Melon.”

Will my interior decorating dreams ever come to pass? I am still hopeful, although I have not yet been able to do any of the children’s rooms in my 15 years of being a mom. Just for fun and so I could more accurately daydream about decorating their rooms, I posed the question to each child.

“What if you had your own room and you could decorate it any way you wanted to?”

The answers amazed and inspired me, but I realized that they don’t think about decorating in the same way I do. Not by a long shot! The answers ranged from:

“Camouflage loft bed with green walls and a huge closet that locks so no one can touch my stuff.”

“A wall covered with books shelves and books, my own laptop with editing software, new and better cameras.”

“Entertainment center with flat screen TV and game system that flips around to become a dresser with all my clothes inside, blue walls, black ceiling with lights shaped like stars.”

I explained that none of their bedrooms would ever contain a TV or a game system as long as they lived with me, but that did not deter them.

“Flat screen TV, many game systems, and a slide that goes out my window. It will be a water slide but I can shut the water off, and then it will just be a regular slide…Oh, and I want a pool in my room.”

“A bed that comes out of the wall by itself and a pool and a hot tub and a slide and…” This answer was given by Calvin, my talkative 5-year old.

He continued to expound on the details of his dream room for the next 20 minutes. I must admit that my mind kept wandering in and out of the conversation. I caught fragments of his chattering.

“…the toilet will flush by itself….the lava wont hurt me…there will be crazy glue but I wont die…there will be extra feet to put on if you want to be taller…” and on and on it went.

Although I could not make sense of it all, one thing became abundantly clear to me. My definition of “interior decorating” had become much too narrow. What had happened to my big, hairy, audacious dreams? Children seem to be able to tell you exactly what they want, whether or not it is realistic …or even real. And they are not deterred by restrictions and rules. They think out of the box. Or perhaps their boxes are much more vast and exciting than my box. Those boxes become smaller and smaller as the child gets older, I have noticed. But isn’t it impossible, child-like faith that has given birth to solutions and inventions never previously considered?

I pray we can all grab onto that child-like hoping and imagining. Even if it never comes to pass the way we envision it, it sure is a lot of fun! And I pray that my children can hold on to their interior decorating dreams. I would love a house with slides and toilets that flush by themselves!