What a Difference a Day Makes

Just last week I got an email from a friend in OKC. He had just successfully traveled down the road I am on today. It is an intense journey, a painful one. But, he assures me that he made it just fine, so I think I probably will too. Today, this morning at 8:25 a.m., I left my twenties and ventured into the decade of the thirties.

As he so gracefully put it, "I’ve got good news for you. There is life on the other side of 30. My teeth didn’t fall out Sunday morning, and neither did my hair. My pants didn’t suddenly come up to my chest and my chest didn’t fall to my waist. I SURVIVED!"

Of course, I have had a really hard time concentrating today. I couldn't stay on task at the office; my mind has been racing listlessly all day. (Could it be a sign of imminent psychosis or looming dementia?) (Hey, you weren't supposed to point out that that hit sometime in my mid-twenties!) So I decided to work the rest of the day at my office away from the office, Perky’s Java & Juice in Oxford (Michigan, not England).

As I have been sitting here, sipping coffee and reflecting on life, I realized that maybe this day is a chance for me to embody the story of Jesus in my own life even more. Luke tells us that “Jesus was about thirty years old when he began his work” (3:23). I pray that today will be a reminder that, at thirty, death really is imminent, the cruciform death of self. I pray that from here I will more perfectly live out the faithfulness of Jesus, whose ministry was about gospel, the rhythm of death and life.

In many ways, this day doesn’t make much of a difference. I don’t feel all that much older. But if today can be a day when I will truly answer the missional call of God and allow my life to be shaped more fully into the image of Jesus Christ, what a difference this day will make after all.