Forty calls for celebration, doesn’t it, friends? Of course. Four whole decades lived out practically demands it.

And so my husband, who really needs no reason at all to plan a party, got to scheming. He booked one of our favorite restaurants in town, cloaked the interior in the prettiest pink décor, arranged for a custom menu of deliciousness, and invited some of my dearest loved ones. Every bite was to-die-for and the minutes were bathed in laughter. I sat perched at a long table so I could view all the beautiful faces. My daughters, my husband, my parents, extended family, friends. And all at once I was overcome with thankfulness. I glanced down the line and gazed on each one, recalling a history of our relationship. All bottled up in their skin was years of work jokes, and memories from my upbringing, and echoes from years and years of everyday living. Each of them was integrated in the small hours that knitted together to become my forty years. They encompassed it all. There sat my story.

How could anyone want for more? The gift of a good life only serves to remind me of how much mercy and grace my sweet Father has shown me.

What’s more, He keeps perfecting me along the way. Taking each moment and ushering in a new level of maturity, wisdom and understanding. Not because of any goodness I could offer. But because of His, and His alone.

Below are ten more nuggets of wisdom He’s been kind to share with me over the last forty years. One lesson after another, bound up in the loving guidance only He can give. Enjoy, y’all.

1. You cannot protect your beloved child from the world. Did you recoil? Cringe? I know, I know. But we can’t. We cannot save our babies from the perils of a fallen world. We can only cover them. Whereas protection can be futile, covering affords us security, fortified from all sides. We provide covering when we pray and raise babies up in the way that they should go, under the protection of the Almighty. Cover them, friends.
2. Treasure the wonder years. Folks, you will know your sons and daughters as adults far longer then you’ll know them as littles. When veteran parents lament that it all goes by so fast, trust their declaration. The long, tedious hours of growing up babies absolutely flies by. That season has an end point. Don’t wish away the wonder years. Treasure them. And remember them fondly as you look eagerly to the seasons ahead.
3. I’ll always need to be parented. And my daughters will always need to be parented too. Because we were designed to function best when guided by parental love. No matter what our age. If you don’t have that with biological parents, know that your Heavenly Father would jump at the opportunity to parent you. 
4. And I’m still growing up. That’s an endless process. And I’m thankful. To know that my muck has an expiration date, and then I can move onto fixing the next issue. One do-over after another. What a gift. But it also means I’m attempting to parent children and be a wife while I’m still growing. As are you. Oof. That’s pretty messy, friends. Heap on the grace and kindness to smooth over those rough edges.
5. Entitlement looks ugly on everyone. Hideous. Horrid. No one – absolutely NO ONE – can look good clothed in that wretched sentiment. There’s nothing we deserve. We can lay claim to zilch. And the sooner you can nestle that truth deep down in your bones, the quicker you’ll be practicing thankfulness. For all of it. The good days and bad days. The large blessings and larger inconveniences. The disappointments and delights. Knowing that every nanosecond is a gift will free you up from the lie of entitlement.
6. Injustice will find you. Eventually, it will. If you’ve not yet experienced the sting of judging eyes or hollow accusation or untimely loss, just give it some time. Living in a fallen world means that each of us will find the unfair, unexpected byproducts sitting on our door-step. So, you’re in good company! Resolve to use injustice to grow your compassion, rather than your bitterness. Trust Father to use it ALL – good, bad, ugly, and REALLY ugly – for your good.
7. You don’t know what you don’t know. I’m getting older. Well past the days of teenage bravado based on absolutely zero wisdom. And I only continue to wake up to the notion of how little I know. It’s incredibly humbling. So proceed carefully and in the Spirit, friends. Rash decisions based on what you see just with your eyes will often fail you. Big declarations rooted in your ‘experience’ alone will reveal your lack. Listen to Father to make a path straight before you. There’s nothing else that can replace His insight.
8. Care for the temple of God. Oh, all you lovely bronzed beauties. You’re gorgeous. And here I sit, fifty shades of fair skinned, not a single tan line to be seen. But I’ve made peace with it. Because I get this one skin on this one temple the good Lord saw fit to give me. You were knitted together, crafted and shaped in love and adoration by the Creator. It’s the same skin you’ve been living in since the first breath and it’ll follow you to the grave, so take care of it. Even if that means wearing floppy hats and layering on the sunscreen. While you’re at it, take extra good care of your feet and teeth too. You just get the one set of each. Trust me on this one.
9. The saying ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire’ is a lie from the pit of hell. It’s one of the ugliest, crafty lies the Devil ever told. Because the very basis of it is suspicion. One that keeps us rooting around for a whiff of smoke, which always leads to pointy fingers. Know what else produces smoke? Victorious battles. And geysers, and volcanos. Two of the most stunning parts of Creation. Sometimes smoke just produces enough spark to move a phenomenon forward. Enough to keep the handiwork of God in motion. It doesn’t have to be the destructive fire the enemy would have you believe. So quit looking for a stinkin’ fire. Put your judging eyes away.
10. Have fun at work. I have a rule. I’m not coming to work if I can’t be fairly certain of a little fun. Not all the time, of course. No job is a non-stop party. And some seasons it can downright difficult. But there should be a belly laugh or two happening. Some comradery. Friendship and growth. If it’s drudgery, you need a new job or a fresh career. You spend a humongous chunk of your life in an office or on a jobsite. Don’t waste it in constant misery. Father did not design you for utter, endless agony. Live like you know your lot in life is the joy He set before you.

See ya next week, dear ones.