Thirty Years

October, as I have previously mentioned, is a very special month. There are many items of note for me during October, things personal and professional. Last week I talked about how the twentieth anniversary of the founding of our church is observed this month. In fact, yesterday, October 7^th, was the official twenty-year mark, and we had a "Fill-The-Pew" Sunday to mark the occasion. It was a success, and we had a great day.

Today is, I suppose, a special day as well. At the very least it is a day that is marked and/or noted by nearly everyone who reaches this point. Today, as the title suggests, marks the thirtieth year since I was born. I have a few friends who have beaten me to the mark over the last month or so: Karl, Jason, Laura (hers just two days ago). I liked what Jason had to say concerning his 30^th birthday just twenty days ago: "Being in your 'twenties' just sounded cool. But now that I'm THHHHIRRRRRRTY, it's just sluggish coming off the tongue, and it just sounds old."

I'm not sure how some of my other friends feel, but for me, kissing the twenties goodbye is something I've looked forward to for a long time (I know, I know, I've waited 30 years; but in truth I've just been waiting for the last six or seven, and the reason is that a lot of people have a hard time taking seriously a pastor who is still in his or her 20s). Yesterday at church some people said, "How do you feel now that you're turning thirty?" My response was always some variation of the word "ecstatic." Still, my mind cannot help but drift to the more philosophical side of the 30-year-old issue.

I remember looking at the years of a calendar when I was younger, imagining when I'd turn 20, how old I would be in that far-off magical year 2000, what year I would turn 30, and it seemed so very far away. I mean, thirty was just down-right old. Now that I've left the milestones behind, pastor a church, have a family of my own with two kids, I realize that the time has flown by faster than I could have imagined, and more than that I have learned a valuable truth:

THIRTY ISN'T ALL THAT OLD.

Now, I did not arrive at this conclusion merely by listening to older folks talk about how they wish they could go back to their thirties, how a young whipper-snapper like myself has years ahead of me. Nor is it looking at the young people around me, including my own children, and realizing that they will reach their milestones in record time, either. No, what really set it apart for me was a thought I had last year. (You may recall that last week I said that I realized that 20 years isn't a long time at all, and that was well-illustrated yesterday at church.)

So, this is the thought that really made me think: Jesus started His public ministry around the age of 30. Now that I have arrived at that same age, I realize just how young He was when He began going about His Father's business. Having had some experience with some older people who felt that someone of my tender young age had no qualifications to be or no business at all being the pastor of a church (at least, being their pastor), I can certainly begin to see where many older religious leaders would have considered Jesus just some upstart, punk Hebrew kid who didn't have the first clue about what He was talking about.

I know Jesus was the divine Son of God, but I often wonder if He experienced any of the insecurities that I have, such as realizing, "Hey, 30 is old compared to a lot of people, but it's still young to a lot more." He had all power. I do not. I can only rely upon the strength that dwells within me through the power of His Holy Spirit. At this age, Jesus only had three more years to minister. I don't know how many more I have ahead of me. As stated last week, I already have six years as a full-time pastor behind me and almost 15 years as a preacher. Nevertheless, I hope I can be better and do more for Him in the days or decades ahead. All I can try to do, I guess, is try not to mess up so much.

So, today I am a man … an old man, according to some who have yet to reach this point. But hopefully when they get here they will see it's not so advanced an age. It was eleven years ago today that my grandfather died, passing away on my 19^th birthday. As I think back to that day, it seems like only a year or so. Time does fly, far too quickly for all that we would like to do. Plans are made and changed according to the circumstances of the moment. But for now, I suppose it's just a matter of faithfully using the time at hand. The past is the past, the future is uncertain, but right now is a perfect time to work for the Lord.

And I don't know about some folks, but I'm going to enjoy telling people, "Yeah. I'm thirty."

(Also, special thanks to some new regular readers in Bucharest, Romania and Santiago, Chile.  Welcome, and I hope you enjoy the blog!)

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