A decade ago I was getting ready to turn 40 and I was enthusiastic about the prospect. My thirties had been a roller coaster of experiences including some mountaintop moments and some deep valley moments. When I was approaching 40, I felt strong and ready to roll. For some odd reason I decided that I wanted to do my first-ever triathlon in celebration of my 40th birthday. Maybe I felt as if it would be my last chance. Maybe I wanted to prove I was physically as strong as I was when I turned 30. Who knows what possessed me in the end! My training was fairly low key and involved swimming, biking, weight training and indoor cardio training. The triathlon was held in May of 2003 at Lake Berryessa in Northern California through an organization called “EnviroSports.” As the date crawled slowly closer, I began feeling more and more nervous. It didn’t help that I had heard the water in the Lake had not yet reached 60 degrees and many of the triathlon participants were opting for wetsuits. How exactly does one swim in a wetsuit? Swimming was the event that made me most panicky and I could not imagine trying to stay afloat while swimming in a wetsuit. On the other hand, my family and friends will tell you I am always freezing and usually a shade of blue so you can imagine my concern about trying to swim while numb. The day came and I did not drown and despite some horrible pain shooting down my left leg during the run (which in the end forced me to walk some of it), I managed to cross the finish line red-faced and relieved.
Last week I turned 49 and I am now on the journey toward 50. How is it that another decade has almost passed? After having done a triathlon to mark my 40th, I am stumped about how to mark my 50th. While I still exercise somewhat regularly, my body is in a very different place now than it was in 2003. For a minute I considered doing a marathon and then I felt so tired I had to lie down after just having the thought! Perhaps a marathon is not how I will mark my 50th. While I was walking this morning I thought about how much I ponder death and dying. For someone as young as I am, I have spent the majority of my adult life so far in relationship with people who are dying. As a pastor and then as a hospice chaplain, I have buried people who died too soon, who didn’t die soon enough and who died at what seemed like just the right time. Part of my job for the past 25 years has been walking with people who are facing death at some point. Is it any wonder I ponder it as much as I do? Though I do not consider myself a morbid person, I cannot help but consider the impact this has had on my life. While other people spend a great deal of time thinking about and saving money for the future, I have focused much more on the present. While other people think about how they want to spend their time when they are retired, I have a difficult time imagining being alive long enough to retire. While other people seem content with jobs that are less than tintillating, I want to love what I do because who knows what tomorrow will bring?
While other people think about fun celebrations for their 50th birthdays, I keep thinking about what would be the most meaningful way to mark what is at best the halfway point in life. One of my favorite poets is Mary Oliver and one of my favorite poems of hers is “When Death Comes.” (New and Selected Poems, Volume 1, 1992). In it she says, “When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.” (pp.10-11) If I could have, I would have written those words because that is how my life has been different than for many of my age. Death is as real to me as life is and I want to make each day and each hour count in some way.
This year I feel as though I am walking on a road toward 50. Most people who have turned 50 say it is one of the best years and decades they have had and often they talk about the freedom they experienced. Please, God, may I have that same experience! So far the walk has been a reality check. Time is precious. Our amazing and growing and beautiful daughters are beginning to make their more permanent separations from home. When our 17 year old daughter asked me this year what I wanted for my birthday, I responded by saying, “From here on out, all I will ever want for my birthdays is time with you.” Time is the one thing we can’t control or buy or slow down or pause. “When it’s over, I want to know I have made of my life something particular and real.” I am forever grateful to God for the privilege of walking with so many saints who have invited me to join them on their journeys and who have joined me on mine. The future is now and time is today. What will you make of it?