Late Bloomer

Call me a late bloomer, but pushing senior citizen status is really late for deep-seated rebellion to raise its obnoxious head. I’m not having some sort of delayed reaction to restrictive parents, legalistic religious beliefs or a domineering spouse. No, in fact, in another person I would perhaps not recognize my inner thrashing as rebellion. I might even cheer it as independence and growth. Yet somehow in that still small voice that speaks to my soul, I’m pretty convinced that I am rebelling.

I have married off the last child. I have worked and sacrificed to get to this stage of life. I have poured passion, creativity and heart into raising four children, and one husband. It is now my turn. Time for me, let’s make that a capital M-E.

I’ve been battling the “what if I never accomplish anything of significance?” question. I’m not alone in this. Other women in the same stage of life fuel this quest for self-fulfillment, shaking off the same baby shackles.

“I want to do something for me,” the lunch buzz around the restaurant table says. My insides chant the rally cry like a middle-aged cheerleader. “Me, me, me.”

Society, secular and Christian, dictates that I’ve had enough of putting myself under my husband’s authority, enough of caring for children, and enough of putting on hold my own dreams and desires. I am primped, primed and plumed to feel like a debutante finally come of age.

Yet, in my quiet alone with God, His Spirit whispers truth throughout the pages of Scripture to the disparity of my mind. I know that the core of my rebellion is not a new battle. It is only clothed in a different stage of life, when such questioning is quite fashionable.
But from where does personal value come, at any stage of life?
Ps. 18:32. “God makes my way perfect (complete, whole, entire).”
I have not really lost my identity after 40 years married to the same man. Mother, although a high calling, has never really been who I am.
I am a servant of the Most High God, and I am not missing anything, no puzzle pieces have been lost.

If I die today, without having published a book, learned to swim or elected to an office, will I be incomplete? Oh, there are a million things I hope to do in life yet. There are gifts I want to develop, risks I hope to take, and growth I yearn to see. But the subtle philosophy that exalts self and my needs above others, I do not wish to embrace.
Can any accomplishment outshine what I already have in Christ?

Unfortunately one is never to young or too old to succumb to the lie that performance equals worth. As I plunge into the second half of my century, I want to stand on a foundation of my worth in Christ alone.

There can be no greater freedom than who I am at His feet and in His heart.