My birthday is roughly a month away. I am on the downward slide towards 50, and picking up speed with each tick of the clock. 49 is looming large on the horizon, and I want to make sure my last year in the forties is a good one.
Each year of my forties has started with a list of things I was going to accomplish before my next birthday. Each list was ludicrously long and pathetically pursued. My birthdays would come and those lists would be left mostly undone just another example of how I had failed to accomplish anything of significance in my life. At least, that is what my nagging self-doubt would whisper in my ear.
The items on the lists ranged from difficult to doable to delusional. Did I really think I was going to learn Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 on the piano, write a best-selling novel, get out of debt, learn mandarin, and repaint the entire house all while raising four children and working? Maybe I was setting myself up for failure that year. I am all for aiming high, but I think last year I might have crippled myself with pressure. I am not planning on making that mistake again this year.
I have started preparing my list of mandatory accomplishments for my last year in the forties so I will be ready to implement them as soon as that bleak October day gets here.
I think I am going to enjoy 49. I believe that this year is going to be the best one this decade. My expectation hinges not on what I have produced in the past, but what God has promised for the future.
I am a Christian, a wife, a mom, and a part-time basket case who wants to be a full time writer.