At every age and stage, our lives have meaning

This essay first appeared on The Daily BS on November 30, 2024.

Recently, I was thinking over the big projects that are looming on the horizon. After the ball drops and the new year slips in, we will be staring down the barrel of some significant events that will require a great deal of time and energy. One of them is planning and executing a barn party for The Cub’s high-school graduation.

It is here that I raise my hand with a forthright admission. I am not the Pioneer Woman, and I am not Martha Stewart. I don’t enjoy planning this stuff. It causes me sleepless nights and stress for days. Put me in the middle of the crowd once the guests begin to arrive, and I’m in my element. Partygoers will have a wonderful time. It’s the plethora of details and all the work beforehand that give me the hives.

As I stood by the sink, mulling it over, I thought to myself, “We aren’t spring chickens anymore.” Immediately, then, came this thought, “But we aren’t dead ducks, either.”

If the stages of life can be broken into seasons, I’d say we’re in late summer. We’re in good health with hopes and dreams that motivate us, and we’re reaching for those with gusto. We are not, however, the young things that trotted off to college with one child, one car, two part-time jobs that barely bought the groceries, and a punishing schedule that delivered a five-year degree in three.

No, we aren’t spring chickens, but we aren’t dead ducks.

In our hustle culture, we often measure productivity by the numbers. There is much about this that’s good. When I was a medical transcriptionist, I loved breaking my own records for lines typed per day or earning a bigger paycheck by producing more reports. It motivated me greatly.

Yes, it is good to strive to better ourselves, to become the best that we can be. It is noble to reach for excellence and to push ourselves to learn and grow, both professionally and personally. Such motivation gives birth to big achievements. But what happens when we can no longer perform? What then?

In my experience, it is when we equate productivity and performance with our own personal worth and value that the cheese, as an entertaining author once said, gets binding. The truth is, life happens. Things change. We age, we get sick, we lose jobs, we slow down, and much of it’s beyond our control. Eventually, we can’t produce and perform at our youthful levels; thus, we must find meaning in other ways.

At this stage in my life, I have learned the incalculable value of wisdom. This is a wonderful gift that age and experience can bring. More and more, I understand why holy scripture exhorts us to seek for it as for hidden treasure. For wisdom, I now know, will keep us from crashing on the shoals.

Knowledge alone, “a state or fact of knowing,” is not wisdom. Wisdom is “the ability to discern or judge what is true, right, or lasting; insight.” In other words, wisdom takes knowledge, pairs it with experience and, from there, makes good decisions and judgments.

 

It takes decades to amass such a storehouse–decades, and a lifetime of navigating through all kinds of situations. Indeed, some of the most valuable wisdom we ever receive comes through pain. For the heart that is inclined toward wisdom, hard times will yield priceless gifts. Otherwise, hard times can yield a hardened heart, and the fruit of that choice is bitter.

Thankfully, the virtue of wisdom is not dependent on our physical abilities. Neither is our inherent worth. As the body declines, the soul may still grow, expand, and strengthen, producing a rich banquet for those fortunate enough to partake. I know such precious souls.

As I write today, dear friends of ours are living out these very truths. Four weeks ago, a devastating car accident turned a brilliant IT specialist into an invalid. A prolific traveler, he is now confined to a wheelchair, recovering from multiple injuries, including a traumatic brain injury. His wife has taken leave from her job to care for him 24/7.

Pain and sleepless nights are now part of their lives. Small things, i.e., a shower, a shave, or a shampoo, are the big things. Making it through one more day is triumph enough. Here, they rest.

It is unclear when they’ll be able to return to their jobs. Currently, they simply cannot be “productive” in the same, old ways. Their focus, rightly, is on healing and staying present in each moment.

What has been stunning for all of us to witness is the gratitude and expressions of rock-solid faith that are coming from their lips. In a time of crushing, the erstwhile wine that flows from their lives is of the sweetest kind. By her tender care of him, in his acceptance of this hard thing, and in their combined reliance on the manifold gifts of wisdom and grace, we see how the human soul becomes ever more lovely despite one’s age and outward condition.