“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” — 2 Corinthians 4:16

There are so many things we’re never adequately warned about in our early years of life. Adulthood is sold to us as this shining goal of freedom — finally being able to do whatever we want, whenever we want. That’s not even close to accurate.

Since I hit my fifties, I’ve felt more grounded than ever before in my life, while simultaneously watching my body start to rattle apart like an old yellow Pinto. Seriously — how ironic can things get? Just as I finally get a hold of who I am as a person, just as my mind is finally (mostly) right, it’s my body that decides to start betraying me.

It’s actually been kind of entertaining watching Gen-X crack open the door on honest conversation about the challenges of aging. My husband and I joke often that while I’m going through menopause, he’s going through a “MAN-o-pause” all his own. I’d heard plenty of jokes about “the change” over the years, but I had no real concept of what it would actually feel like. Swollen hands. Painful joints. Feeling like I’ve suddenly been lit on fire from underneath my own skin. Sugar cravings. Belly fat that WILL NOT DIE. It’s a wild ride, and it will test the patience of even the most sedate person you know.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

I found that same lack of true understanding when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. The sheer volume of things I read about what to expect was massive, yet I was never quite able to grasp until I was living inside them. I was lucky, in that respect — I only required surgery, no chemotherapy or radiation. A real blessing, to be sure. I say that because, even knowing how blessed I was in my circumstances, I’ve still had my share of challenges to carry forward from it.

So many people tried to brighten the horizon by pointing out the “new figure” I’d be getting out of the surgery. Here’s my honest opinion: man will never be able to recreate the work of God in a way that improves on the original. Don’t get me wrong — I’m deeply grateful for the skillful work and genuinely kind care I received from my surgeons. But what I carry forward now is a daily irritation, physically. Never quite comfortable. Never fully off my radar. A constant, quiet reminder that I had a near miss. There’s ongoing aches, occasional burning pains, but only in the places that aren’t completely devoid of sensation anymore.

“Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is spent.” — Psalm 71:9

As we get older, we have to come to terms with the conditions attached to this lease we’ve been given on life. There’s a cost to being here — to watching grandkids grow up, to enjoying time with the spouse we can’t bear to be without, to feeling the sweet release of a good belly laugh, to the rich pleasure of a perfectly crafted dessert. For me, the benefits far outweigh the cost of my ticket. And I’m really, genuinely glad to have a ticket to this whole mess-fest called life.