Although I am not sure that I am ready to admit that I have reached the mid life season of my life, the reality is that if the stats are right, and if the life expectancy of a woman in Canada is about eighty-four, I have arrived!
More than the number that represents my years on planet Earth, even more than how my body feels after waking in the morning, I know that I have reached this season because I cannot make a decision for the life of myself.
I have gotten to the point that I hate it when people ask me to make a decision from when I plan to get groceries, to what I want to order in a restaurant, to what I want to do on Spring Break, to my intention for work next year.
It is not that I am incapable of making a decision, but that I see so many more options than ever before, and I feel a greater sense of wanting to make really good decisions, with even less regrets than ever before in my life.
I think it is because I sense that my ability to do it all over is lessening.
It is sort of like when you reach the month of August in the summertime. It sort of feels like summer is more than half gone, and a bit of regret starts to take root … almost hindering you from enjoying that entire last month of summer, fully.
But, even for those of us looking back to probably less than half of the time we are given, there is still much to enjoy, to do, to dream about, to pursue, to live.
Matthew 6:27 reminds us, “can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”
So, let us live each day with the abandon of a child on the first day of summer break … with the wisdom and hindsight to know that the summer is more than two months, but is made up of about sixty individual days.
itsawonderfilledlife 