For most of my life, I was the youngest person in a room. I graduated high school and went to college at 17, got married at 21, and had all three of my kids by age 28. Now, though, at 43, I’m no longer young by any definition. Unless I’m hanging out with my parents, gone are my days of being the spring chicken in the proverbial coop.
It’s been a strange transition — and, honestly, something of a struggle — to accept the end of my youth. But here I am, smack in the middle of middle age. My oldest child just moved off to college, my other kids are teenagers, my marriage is of legal drinking age, and my youthful glow is, well, not what it used to be.
I could make cheeky jokes about being “over the hill” or see this as an invitation to self-pity. But as a Catholic Christian, I desire to move into middle age (and beyond) with an acknowledgement of and appreciation for getting older. Even more, I want to figure out what it means to age in a godly way.
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The way I see it, this begins with serving others — just in a different way than I might have when I was younger. Now that my kids have moved past needing me quite so intensely, I’ve shifted some of my energy toward mentoring other moms with little ones. With the wisdom I’ve gained over the years, I’m able to offer sound advice to a younger friend I meet regularly. She asks me about potty training, sleepless nights, and preschool options. I assure her that what she’s going through is all totally normal — and that these challenges will soon pass.
I also teach parenting classes and nutrition seminars to pregnant moms at my local Catholic women’s aid center. It’s a beautiful way to promote a pro-life, pro-family cause and feel like I still have a hand in the ministry of motherhood.
As stability has increased with age, I’m enjoying another perk of godly aging: the ability to bless others with my finances, time, and resources. With a large house no longer full of kids’ toys, I can host gatherings and get-togethers. In the past year, I’ve opened my home for my church’s music ministry potluck, a dinner party for fellow high school parents, and a gathering for our 50-person choir. Even if these get-togethers aren’t church-related, I believe that God’s presence dwells in my home. Offering it up may allow him to touch others.
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Similarly, my husband and I purchased a cabin in the cool pines of northern Arizona not long ago. Our friends, family, ministry partners, and clergy know they’re always welcome to take a relaxing retreat there free of charge. It blesses me immensely to see loved ones take a much-needed break in nature.
Even the physical changes of age are an opportunity to contemplate godly aging. My body may be a bit slower and squishier than it was in my 20s or 30s, but it’s still a temple of the Holy Spirit. I’ve accepted certain limitations — like the fact that running now gives me headaches or that my diet can’t be the free-for-all my teenagers enjoy. Still, I’m determined to care for my physical self to the best of my ability. I exercise regularly, eat well, and stick to a healthy sleep schedule as part of a self-care routine I consider both physical and spiritual.
For me, the physical element of holy aging also means saying no to invasive anti-aging procedures. I’ve come to believe that signs of aging can actually be a source of dignity. As I see it, my energy is better spent on accepting this, rather than striving to turn back the clock and alter my appearance. I’m opting out of treatments like plastic surgery and facial fillers — and, if I get really brave, I might even grow out my gray hair to see if it’s a “crown of splendor” like Proverbs says.
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Finally, there’s something to be said for simply enduring where God has placed me. I’ve lived in the same part of the world for 41 of my 43 years and been a parishioner at my church for 18 years. Throughout this lengthy history, I’ve developed deep, long-term relationships that are central to my purpose in life and my ministry to others.
Sticking around for the long haul bears its own fruit. I like to envision myself in 10, 20, or 30 more years as the old lady everyone at church knows and turns to for wisdom (and mom hugs). Like Anna recognizing the child Jesus in the temple, who knows what I might see — or who I might bless? Though the world doesn’t tend to glorify aging, the older I get, the more I see that the process has a lot to offer, both for my own spiritual refinement and for others’.
