How a 50-Year-Old Woman Can Look 20 Again

Yesterday was my birthday.

It doesn’t matter exactly what number I celebrated; the point is, I’m not 20 anymore.

Or 30.

Or even 40.

And I’m okay with that. It’s all good. I respect this stage of my life for the wisdom it affords, and for the freedom it brings. I have zero desire to regress ten or twenty years in knowledge or stature. Truly, I don’t even need the wrinkle-free skin or superhuman capacity to stay up past 10.

But you know what I do miss? My youthful courage. My bottomless hope in a future not yet realized.

Thirty years ago, I believed I could punch my stamp on the world. Every possibility was ahead of me. Sure, I was a dirt poor college student, stressed out with term papers and immature relationships to navigate, but I had something priceless in my pocket—potential.

It was exciting.

Fast forward now through some decades of blessings, trials, joys, disappointments, responsibilities, exhaustion and hard lessons learned, and my outlook is different. Somewhere along the way, my rose-colored glasses got fogged up. I wouldn’t say I’ve become jaded, necessarily, but I am cautious. Pragmatic. Weary. Maybe even a little frumpy.

I refuse to succumb to frumpy.

Is it possible for a 50-year-old woman to look 20 again? I believe so—in the very best sense. Here’s how I plan to do it.

1.   Dream. Between college graduation and retirement, my traditional career span is more than halfway over. But is that halfway empty or full? The way I see it, as long as I’m still breathing on this planet, I have work to do for God. I ought to keep dreaming of ways to serve him, new goals to reach, new visions to cast. And so should you. God gave each of us certain gifts to use for his purposes—some of which it took me the last twenty years to discover and develop—so I’d darn well better use them now and still when I’m 60, 80, or beyond.
   
   “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10)
   
   
2.   Learn. At age 20 I was hungry for knowledge. Playing the student came naturally then, when life consisted of classrooms and textbooks and midnight Pizza Hut on speed-dial. Yet our world is an everlasting classroom if we allow it to be. There’s always more to learn. I want to keep reaching out to mentors a stage or two ahead of me and find out what lessons they can impart. And I want to talk to younger generations—my daughters and their friends—and discover what hopes they’re harboring for their own tomorrows, and how I can help them get there.
   
   “Let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance.” (Proverbs 1:5)
   
   
3.   Laugh. Wow, have I ever become uptight in middle age. Where is that lighthearted girl who loved to giggle? She has responsibilities now, you know. Parenting, marriage, work, health insurance and property taxes—these and a hundred other grown-up worries weigh heavy on my chest, because life is not a game, okay, people? What are you laughing at? Oh. I still have a “Hello, my name is Becky” sticker stuck to my jacket, don’t I? Compliments of parent-teacher conferences. The 20-year-old me would’ve cracked up over that. I want to be like her.
   
   “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” (Proverbs 17:22)
   
   
4.   Open my eyes. When I was in my early 20s, I dreamed of meeting the man who would capture my heart. I imagined how happy life would be with children and a house and my own washing machine. Family life was something I aspired to then—and now? Now I complain about it. The dishes, missing my college kid, my husband’s socks on the floor. Yet if only I could see myself through the eyes of the girl who longed for this hectic, homework-infested household, I’d realize I’m living my dream. This is everything I wanted. And I am blessed.
   
   “Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from him.” (Psalm 127:3, NLT)
   
   
5.   Claim my space in the world. Youth comes with a funny mix of insecurity and cockiness. You can be clueless yet entitled—because our society values young beauty and talent. Up until about a decade ago, I think I wore my youth like a badge. Or a safety net. The 20s and 30s are a prime zone for relevance, according to influencer culture. But heading into our 40s and 50s, women earn enough perspective to realize our deeper significance. It’s time to value me for me, and you for you, and not for the age on our driver’s licenses.
   
   Honestly? It feels a little rebellious. Like freedom.
   
   Like being 20 again.

So from this day forward, I refuse to allow messed-up American culture to boss me around. Social media, TV, even some evolving church trends would tell me I’m less relevant at 50 than I was at 20. But do you want to know what the Bible says about that?

Garbage.

“Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained by living a godly life.” (Proverbs 16:31, NLT)

So, my friends, whether you’re 20 or 50 or 90 years old—do not fear another birthday. Let’s celebrate it instead.

Not everybody gets to grow old.