Happy Birthday to me. Yesterday, I turned seventy-five—three-quarters of a century lived. It’s hard to believe. Deep inside me still lives that sixteen-year-old small-town farm boy wondering how we got here. The truth is, it didn’t happen all at once. It was a journey of countless tiny steps—millions, billions, maybe even trillions of small decisions, each shaping the road ahead.
Romans 8:28, “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”
Twenty-One
I remember when twenty-one seemed impossibly far away. It felt like a milestone that would define everything, and for a while, it did. But eventually, it too faded into memory—just one of many great moments that came and went, each significant, each now a part of the past. A lifetime of echoes.
“The greater your knowledge of the goodness and grace of God on your life, the more likely you are to praise Him in the storm.” – Matt Chandler
My daughter—wiser than I ever was—once told me, “Everything that’s happened made me who I am, and I like who I am.” I’m proud to be her father. Me? I’m still figuring that out. Life went fast. Too fast.
1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
My path hasn’t been straightforward. For nearly five decades, I concentrated on making a living. My calendar was filled with meetings and business trips, but in between were birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and family vacations. I’ve traveled the world and experienced wonders I once only dreamed of. I met extraordinary people, and in their presence, I often felt small. I was busy. Life didn’t wait.
Psalm 37:4, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”
Seventy-fifth Birthday
Now, at seventy-five, I’m grateful. I’m healthy for my age, I have the means to live comfortably, and I still wake up each day with purpose. I continue to explore the world—discovering places I didn’t even know existed. The people I meet now may not have formal education, but they possess deep wisdom. In their lives, it’s not material possessions but relationships that matter most. And maybe that’s the greatest lesson of all.
By some measures, being seventy-five makes me an old man. But inside, I don’t feel old. I expected to, maybe even hoped I would. But I just feel… like me. Perhaps a little wiser—not because I chased wisdom, but because life taught me through experience.
Psalm 90:12, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”
I don’t fear death. I see it not as an end, but as a beginning. Sometimes I wonder why I don’t long for it—to escape this slow fading of strength. But that’s not for me to choose. God still wakes me each morning, so the work isn’t done.
I’ve lost friends, and I miss them deeply. Sometimes, I envy them—because those of us still here carry the weight of their absence. But over time, you learn to live with grief. Some pains never leave but soften, and we keep moving forward.
A Glimpse Ahead
I have a life that is more beautiful than I deserve. God has been faithful to me through it all—not because of who I am, but despite it. I am blessed with family, friends, and a life that is rich with memories. I am seen. and valued.
So today, as a gift for my birthday, I offer you this: a glimpse ahead.
Life feels like a marathon in the beginning, but in the end, it feels more like a sprint. Every moment counts. One day, those moments will become the most valuable things you own. Live each one fully. Choose a life that excites you for tomorrow, no matter what today holds.
Psalm 146:2, “I will praise the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God while I have my being.”
If you woke up this morning, God still has a plan for you. So live it.
Amen. And for those of lucky enough to call you our friend, our lives are richer for it.