The Mess and the Milestones

Hebrews 3:1–6

As I write this, I'm days away from turning 40 years old. A few years ago I linked that hallmark with the number's biblical significance, and applied commensurate pressure on myself to close a loop of tremendous meaning and importance on this birthday. I was going to mirror Moses and transform into my next greater form every 40 years, gathering up my many scattered pieces and have them all glued up nice and neat and looking like a Proper Christian Lady. Christ spent 40 days in a desert resisting every fleshly temptation. Surely I could at least stop cursing in front of my kids when I stub my toes.

Well the big year is here, and I've had to reckon with this nonsense pressure I've put on myself in a big way. I still run my toes into the same furniture every blessed day, and I'm still the same mess I've ever been. But God sent some comfort my way. He reminded me that I'm not Moses, and I'm not even just me either. I'm a temple to the Holy Spirit. The same spirit that raised Christ from the dead dwells within me. I'm not some 40 year old out here striving all alone. I'm the dwelling place of resurrection power, and my job is to have faith that he will bring his perfect plan to completion. Striving looks very different when you remember you don't have to white knuckle it on your own.

If God blesses me with another 40 years of this beautiful life, I intend to be more relaxed about my next Moses-length milestone.

A prayer from St. Patrick's Breastplate

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left. Amen.

Yours in the mess of it,
Grace Sewell