Growing, Growing, Grown

I don’t know if it’s the closing of yet another fast-paced year causing me to ruminate on the topic of becoming mature, or acutely observing the absence of that characteristic in those who should possess it, but I have had this topic on my mind for a couple of weeks. The views expressed herein are the commentator’s alone, and do not necessarily reflect those of anyone else in particular.

I think everyone has a different view of what it means to ‘grow up.’ For some, it might be reaching the milestones: getting your driver’s license, voting for the first time, turning 21 or turning 30. For others, it might be achieving a certain recognition or status or position. Whatever it might be, we all grow up, or hope to grow up.

Compared to some, I’ve been grown up for a long time. Still, I have wondered about just how “grown up” I was. Realization came just last week. I discovered that, at least for me, you know you’ve grown up when It’s A Wonderful Life makes you cry like a baby. I’ve seen my grandfather and uncles watch that movie year after year, chins all a-quiver as the citizens of Bedford Falls come to the aid of George Bailey. Then as George reads Clarence’s words written at the beginning of Tom Sawyer, realizing that, “No man is a failure who has friends,” I would glance over and see a Kleenex moment: suitable for a Norman Rockwell, Saturday Evening Post cover.

“You’ve seen that a thousand times!” I would say in the stunned, embarrassed disgust of youth. “Why do you cry EVERY time? It’s not like you didn’t know it was coming.” Now that I’m older, have a child, know more of what life’s about . . .I still can’t explain it. But I know it now affects me the same way.

There are interesting, amusing and varying ways we discover we’ve grown up, and at some point we discover that growing up is not as fun as it seemed it would be on the young end of life. With growing up comes grown-up responsibilities, worries and problems, most of which we could do without.

I speak not of what many may consider the sure signs of age. A friend observed some of these signs in a recent birthday blog entry of his own. I submit a portion of his observation on his 29th birthday (Happy Birthday, Jason!):

"Jenny pulled 12 white hairs out of my head before I made her stop . . . I have crows feet . . . I can grow a beard . . . All my weight is in my belly. My belt buckle hurts me . . .30 is 365 much-shorter-than-they-used-to-be days away. 30 is grown up."

Jason goes on to say that “29 is better than 23,” despite the physical changes, because with age comes a greater awareness and understanding, a greater maturity if you will, than was possible at younger ages, despite what was perceived at 23.

I’ve certainly had to admit, rather painfully and grudgingly, that at those pivotal moments of my early life when I made the “mature, right decision,” I hadn’t the faintest inkling of what the “mature, right decision” truly was. But for all those moments past, I now have a better appreciation of what maturity means, and have drawn a little better bead on what decisions are called for in a given situation.

I still have a lot to learn. (This admission is, in my opinion, one of the first steps to continued maturing. If you can’t say this, you’re nowhere near mature.)

What is necessary in life, Christian or otherwise, is that we must learn from our past. We must mature. Recall what the Apostle Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13:11: When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. We should still hold fast to the excitement of life, the sense of awe and wonder, the expectation and hope of youth; we should still have fun and enjoy life, but we should “grow up,” in the sense that we should not just take from life, but contribute to it in a meaningful way.

So, as I fumble for my remote, I reach for the box of tissues. I press PLAY to watch Bert the Cop and Ernie the Cab-driver. I look forward that scurvy little spider Mr. Potter, the wonderful old Building and Loan, and Zuzu’s petals. I think what makes life so wonderful is that while we’re here, we can make a difference in at least one person’s life, even if it’s our own.

Let the tears come. I’m mature enough to let them fall.

Atta boy, Clarence.


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