Sixty and Counting

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60 and I are having a stare-down. 60 is winning. In preparation, I’ve been mentally perusing the annals of my life: times of sheer terror and times of great joy; years of the mundane mountains of laundry, mismatched socks, and stacks of dishes waiting to be washed; the homes, cities, people, ministries, beautiful children, and the one to whom, at age 19 I said, “I do”, (and still do). All the ingredients of life- proof that I not only existed, but have been loved and I have loved. Not because I deserved love, but because in the shadows and in the center is the One who loved me first. I am blessed.

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