Almost-40 Me

My sister just shared a photo from Easter on Facebook. It is a picture of me with my two siblings, and every time I look at it, I cringe a little. Maybe it was the lighting, or maybe it was the angle, but either way, I look…well…chubby. Chubby and haggard.

I don't care that it had only been four weeks since I gave birth and I was completely sleep-deprived. Or that I had just eaten more than I should have. It wasn't me in the picture, not the me that I'm used to seeing.

But this is me. This is the hair-thinning, black-graying, eyes-wrinkling, almost-40 mother-of-eight me.

You'd think I'd be more mature and less shallow at my age. You'd think I'd be more wise. Actually, I don't mind getting older. It's aging that I don't like.

But let's think about this! I wouldn't expect my newborn to stay a newborn. Or my 14-year-old to stop maturing. We all change with time, and growth is always a good thing, isn't it?

For every white hair on my head, there is a lesson learned. For every laugh line on my face, a memory of a joyful moment. For every shadow under my eyes, a hug and kiss to comfort a child. For every extra pound on my body, I can count multiple blessings from God. 

So what if I'm a little wider than I used to be?

I have grown so much in the past decade. I can say without hesitation that I prefer the 39-year-old Me to the 19-year-old or 29-year-old Me. The person I am today is less fearful, less self-centered, and less impatient than before. I am now more gracious, more kind, more humble, and more sympathetic.

And I know I still have a ways to go. So if gaining more wisdom means maybe gaining a few more pounds and wrinkles, then I don't mind so much. It's time to accept this and move on, and spend less of my time and focus on my physical appearance, and more on my spiritual development. Then someday, when I look in the mirror and see a new version of Me, I'll to be able to say, "I like the 49-year-old Me even more than the 39-year-old Me!"