Somewhere along the way, the world began telling me that growing older meant growing smaller. That the best years were behind me. That the shelf life of a woman's usefulness had an expiration date I was fast approaching. I believed it for a season. Then I decided to stop.
I am not the same woman I was at thirty, and I would not want to be. At thirty I had energy but little wisdom. I had plans but little peace. What I have gained in these later years is something no younger version of me could have carried — the freedom to love without performing, to serve without proving, to rest without guilt.
Growing older without growing smaller means I still have something to give. My prayers still move the heart of God. My words still encourage a weary friend. My hands still fold around a grandchild and tell a story the world cannot tell. The kingdom of God has no retirement plan, and neither do I.
It also means I am still learning. There is a new skill I am curious about, a new book waiting on my table, a new question I have not yet asked the Lord. The day we stop learning is the day we begin to shrink — not because of our age, but because of our choosing. I refuse to choose that.
If you are in this season with me, do not let anyone make you small. Your wrinkles are evidence of a life fully lived. Your gray hairs are a crown the Lord Himself has placed upon your head. And the chapter you are writing right now may be the most fruitful one yet. We are not winding down, dear one. By grace, we are still becoming.
With love, Auntie Mina