My Life At 60

This last Thursday was a big day. I turned sixty. And on Saturday, my family is rushing around prepping for a party.

That night dear friends, from various times in my life, gathered around us to celebrate this occasion with tacos and cake. And of course there were guitars and songs to fill the air.

They say sixty is a milestone, but honestly, it feels more like a scenic overlook.

I believe that I have been climbed enough of this mountain to finally see the pattern of my life woven into the valley below.

A rich tapestry of stories all knitted together in love by a Master Weaver who never drops a stitch.

I think it’s taken six decades for the colors to truly start harmonizing and for the patterns to reveal their beauty. The loose threads of my youth (the mistakes, the sudden pivots, and the unexpected joys) are being pulled into a deliberate design of family and amazing friends like you.

While contemplating this day with a friend, I was told, “We’re not getting older, just more refined.” Just as any precious metal has to endure a refining fire, so must we. The years know what they’re doing, melting away what doesn’t belong or is no longer needed, until what remains is love, mercy, and a deeper tenderness for the world.

The Early Church Father, St. Gregory of Nyssa, once wrote: "For he who climbs never stops going from beginning to beginning, through beginnings that have no end."

I love that idea. At sixty, I’m not reaching a "finish line"; I’m just standing at a new beginning. I plan on climbing some more, listening more, and leaning more into the heart and hands of God to be woven into this amazing story of life.

​As I have discovered, our stitches don't end with us. We are woven into something far greater than ourselves. Whether you are sixteen, sixty, or ninety-six, the yarn is still moving and the pattern is still unfolding. And God is still loving us with beauty and grace.