The Older I Get…
But here’s the thing. The older I get the more I realize…
I don’t want a seat at every table.
I don’t want to be invited to the cool girls night out or the popular party. I don’t want to cram in and shout to be heard. I don’t want to go where I have to be someone I’m not so I can be with people I don’t really like. I want to sit with the few true and loyals… the ones who only want me to be my most honest self. The ones who don’t just take you as you are, but who celebrate you for your honesty. I want to sit with the ones who will hold my stories and share my heartaches.
I want to spend my life being understood and not constantly explaining myself.
The older I get the less time I have for fake. I don’t want to pretend as though I have any of it together and I won’t expect anyone else to either. I don’t care if your laundry is put away or your kids bedrooms look a wreck or there’s toothpaste in your sink. I don’t have any time to pretend like my life isn’t being lived in. Not in person or online. And there’s no reason for me to expect anything different from anyone else.
I want to spend my life living it – not obsessing about how it looks to others.
Which is why… The older I get the less time I have for what doesn’t matter in the end. Do I want a nice house and hair? Yup. Will I take it into eternity? I will not. I get one life. It’s a string of todays that add up to a lifetime, and when all of them have been spent I want to know they counted for something. I want to know they impacted Heaven.
Since I believe Jesus actually did all the things the Bible says He did, and since I believe I have the power in me that He says I have, I want to spend my life living like what I do matters.
Family matters. Actually, the older I get the more I realize that family is everything. I’m not just talking about the family I was born into. I’m talking about the family I have made and the friends who have become like family. I cannot think of anything that Jesus values more than family. How do I know? The value of something is determined by what someone is willing to pay for it. If Jesus would give His life to restore the relationship between us and our Father, then we know how much we are worth to Him. We can see how much family matters to Him.
I want to spend my life valuing family the way Jesus does. It’s why I’m careful with what I say to my family.
The older I get, the more I realize the weight of my words. Once spoken out loud, words can never be unsaid. They can be clarified, explained, added to, or justified, but they can never…ever… be unheard.
I want to spend my life saying words that build, heal, connect, construct, encourage, inspire, and cultivate.
Not everyone will agree with my words. Not everyone will like my words, but this brings me to my final point.
The older I get the more I realize I am not responsible for the thoughts or opinions of others. That includes the opinions others have of me. I am in charge of exactly one person. Myself. The more time I spend trying to manage other people, the less time I have to focus on what I can control… me.
If I had to guess, you are nodding and agreeing with me as you read. You, too, want real over fake and lasting over temporary. You want to know that you have an eternal impact on the world around you and real life is supposed to look and be lived in.
Friend, we might have a long way to go and many lessons yet to learn, but there’s grace in the journey and we seee now that it all just keeps getting better the older we get.
PEACE: Hope and Healing for the Anxious Momma's Heart
Hey, Momma? There isn't something broken with your faith because you can't shake the fear. As a Christian woman battling chronic anxiety, I know what you're facing, but I also know that there is hope and healing for your anxious heart.
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I'm Becky Thompson, bestselling author and creator of Midnight mom Devotional
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The world is loud. Life can seem overwhelming. Good thing we have a God who never leaves us. Everything you’ll read here will point to Him and will remind you… He’s right there in the room.
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