See Luminosity

On Turning 40

On Turning 40

I asked it, the question: What is the measure of a year?

A birth, a death…pointing beyond the here

And now, but now I ask again, wondering anew…

This time, though different, moving through

From one year to many, 40 to be exact

Half a life or so, time for purpose to be intact.


But ponder once again, this seminal birthday calls

That question, the measure used, more significant weight befalls

Not just one year, anymore, but many, too soon

Facing the measure of a life, it’s high noon.

Midway, halfway, a marker, a post

Reflection, evaluation, Have I made the most

Of this life I’ve been given? How has it been spent?

Have sin, pride, and selfishness mediated intent?

One life to live, one opportunity given

What, exactly, is the endgame for which I have striven?


The road has been longer, much rockier, obscure

Dreams from many miles ago no longer endure.

Hope has been battered, plans gone askew

Control unveiled as illusory, how little I knew

Of what mattered, then. But hopefully the wear

And tear of the journey has also been fair

And left not just scars, but wisdom and grace

Soul deeper feeling, heart loving in its place.


40 dawns harshly, the mirrors don’t lie

Wishes aside, no longer can I fly

Back…motherhood, a gift only for the young

My losses, my babies, death of hope has stung

To the depth of my soul, my purpose, my call.

Desire unrequited remains, questions fall

Grief mingled with hope shreds, my tapestry yet

Held together with faith threads, He has not set

Me aside. No, the Weaver works all of the fabric of years

These 40, and more – creating in spite of the fears

His work, His masterpiece, His artistry, not mine,

Mingling my life threads for purpose divine.


The passing of an era, door closing, it feels

Plans, hopes, and baby dreams age only steals

But the Weaver, the Potter, the Way, Truth and Life

Restores and redeems, brings beauty from strife

Sorrow the soil in which righteousness grows

New desires sprout, Jesus character flows

In where self reigned supreme. “Fulfill me” the prayer

Shifting to “They will be done; Do it through me” and there

I find meaning in this journey, though weary, well-worn.

It is the road of hardship where Christlikeness is born.


The womb may not flower, wrinkle lines will increase

Child longing, grieving, may not ever cease

But each passing year this world holds less allure

Its trappings more hollow, its brevity assured

Horizontal focus when younger, time turns gazes up

40 years closer to drinking from His cup

at His table, in paradise, the suffering no more.

This life’s struggles preparing our spirits to adore

Our Lover, Creator, Redeemer and Friend

Sanctification, soul hole He will mend.


A birthday of 40. Am I where I should be?

The Spirit reminds not to measure by what I see

Not money, nor career, not whether my quiver is full

Not education, accomplishments, or even good works will pull

Down high marks on the scale of import.

No, the measure is inward, and the time is short.

Only the depth of my love, the obedience of my will

Sin nature replaced, Fruit of the Spirit instilled

Truth answered and lived out, daily cross taken

Humility reigning, Self completely Forsaken

Will answer the question, “Was this life lived well?”

Only living for the next world soul longings will quell.


My year numbers higher, yet arrived I have not

Meaning and purpose continually sought

Yet searched less and less in the things of this earth

Accepting whatever He brings has its worth

For the measure that matters; even suffering and pain

Life viewed through heaven’s lens unveils loss becomes gain


By grace at the crossroads of life I now stand

Grip hard, control tightly, or open up my hand

To whatever He gives. Come what may I’ll pursue

That which endures, that which flesh cannot construe

These years, training ground for the glory to be

Now through a glass darkly, but soon we will see

Releasing my grasp, to His hand I will cling

In hopes to hear “Well done, faithful servant” from my King.



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