My Mug(s) Runneth Over

I recently celebrated my birthday. This year was a significant one for me, and I have to say in honesty, I wasn't too thrilled about it. Since I'm not one of those people who shies away from divulging my age, I don't mind that you know I turned sixty... SIXTY?! Wow. I mean, when did THAT happen? I don't feel any older, and I know I'm just the same person I was the day before my birthday, but somehow this one hit me hard.

I guess when you're born at the beginning of a decade, you tend to view each consecutive ten years as milestone markers for the point at which you'll turn 20, 30, 40, 50... 60. In my twenties I thought about the year 2000. I would be forty then. In 2010 my fifties would arrive. I quit counting with 2020. That would be the year I turned sixty... and I didn't bother going farther than that, because sixty was ANCIENT... or so I thought back then.

As human beings I suppose we tend to resist change. We like permanence. Permanence is easy. It's comfortable. Change is often anything but. We like our ruts, our status quo. They fit us as well as an old pair of jeans that "give" in just the right places. If you have known me, really known me, for any length of time, you understand just how resistant to change I am.

I guess the first real change came for me when my oldest went off to college. I dug my heels in ... HARD. I had enjoyed his company for eighteen years, had the pleasure of his wit and the wisdom that always betrayed his age, and then, just like that, my world changed. Pages were turning faster than I could scan them, as if they were caught by a sudden fall breeze forcing me to move on to the next part of the story when I had scarcely finished the last. With each child who moved on, my heart broke a little more. I felt like I was being dragged forward kicking and screaming when all I really wanted was to sound retreat.

I felt the same way when my sweet mom, and later my dad, passed away. I resisted with every fiber of my body. I wanted to hold on. I wasn't ready for the enormity of the change each loss would bring. These people, my biggest fans, my encouragers, my leaders, my rocks... would be graduating to much bigger, better things... glorious things. I knew that. I wanted that for them. I wanted to be happy for them, and I was to an extent, but I was also so very sad for me. My heart's desire was to linger just a little longer on their words, their hugs, their laughter, but the pages just kept turning, and I was helpless to stop them.

Change is inevitable. It is built into the very fabric of our lives. God, in His almighty wisdom, has placed it there just as surely as He wove the seasons into being. Though change can be hard, it is often the best thing for us. It isn't good to stagnate. God loves us too much to leave us grazing long in the same pasture. Change is where we grow.

When my husband had to leave his job after thirty-one years with the same company, it was devastating. It was never something we had envisioned, nothing we had anticipated, yet there we were. A move was thrust upon us, and move we did. Long story short, he is now at a wonderful company where his work and experience are valued, where he is thriving, and where he is using his God-given talents to the fullest. He is happy. A change we had never wanted became the impetus for a more fulfilling life. A shepherd always knows what is best for his sheep.

Without my children growing up, moving on and out, I would never have gotten the benefit and the blessing of welcoming more family into our midst. My daughter-in-law and my sons-in law have become as much a part of us as our own kids. They have brought more love, more laughter, more fun. Our family has changed. It has morphed. It has grown. It has become more than I could ever have imagined... and it has brought grandchildren into our lives. Oh, my goodness... those precious grandbabies! How blessed we are.

Thing is, we have to be willing to let go of what we know, of what we've become accustomed to, of the things we value... in order to experience the kind of change that brings something even more wonderful into our lives. My twenty year old self or thiry or forty could never have experienced the joy of these sweet grandsons without expending some years to see it happen. Isn't that the way of life in general? There are always trade-offs, always exchanges. Taking one step forward means leaving something else one step behind, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

That brings me to the title of this post: "My Mug(s) Runneth Over." Six years ago our first grandchild, Benjamin, was born. I affectionately refer to him as the "Benjameister." He was born in July. When my birthday arrived a couple months later, Mark and Laura gave me a coffee mug with Ben's sweet, little yawning face on it, along with the caption, "I need coffee. NOW!!!" It became my first prized possession. Three years later, the "Flintster" came into the world, also in July. For my birthday I asked for his little "mug" on a coffee cup, and they graciously obliged. Then there were two. This past July, Wade made his entry, and, you guessed it. Arriving at my doorstep a few days ago was his sweet little face on his own mug. This time I didn't even need to ask. It's become an unspoken tradition.

Whenever I drink out of one of these coffee mugs, or pass by the cup rack in the dining room where they reside, I am reminded of how thankful I am to have each of these precious grandchildren in my life. A dear friend told me just this morning that birthdays are opportunities to celebrate God's goodness in giving us another year to spend on this earth with the people we love and with those who love us in return.

I am sixty. That is now a fact. I have traded my dark brown locks for salt and pepper, and my youthful energy has been replaced with what I can only hope is aged wisdom. The pages keep turning, and though I remain powerless to stop it, God has seen to it that every chapter of my life continues to be better and more exciting than the previous ones. If you're still in your twenties, thirties, or even forties, you may not believe that yet. However, if you'd like proof, you are most welcome to stop by for coffee any time, grab a mug, and see for yourself.