Thirty Seven

Today I turned thirty-seven.
I have been married for almost fifteen years.
My daughter is ten.
My son is seven.

I have been in ministry for fifteen years.
Pastoral ministry for eight years.
Ordained for almost one.

I have one Bachelor's
and two Master's
degrees.

I have conducted a performance of
Mozart's Requiem.

I have been in 18 countries
and 43 states.

I have played Harold Hill.

I have had singing.

The thirty-six to thirty-seven birthday
is not a "biggie."
I don't qualify for anything new.
I don't gain a privilege.
It doesn't end in zero.

But it is nonetheless a good day.

Today I ate breakfast with my son at church.
I helped my daughter set up her new soccer goal.
Then it started snowing and so she went inside.
So I helped some friends haul brush.
(Yep, it was still snowing.)

Then my family took me out to lunch
at Lulu's Noodles downtown.

There were presents and cards
and phone calls.

I played
Trivial Pursuit: Star Wars Edition
with my son.
He let me go first, since it was my birthday.

There was Saturday night worship
with cake.

When you are a thirty-seven year old
pastor,
people in the congregation think
one of two things:
You are young.
or
You are old.

When I ask,
How old do you think I am?
older people guess too young
and younger people guess too old.

I can still run up stairs
two at a time.

And I enjoy an occasional
afternoon nap.

I am thirty-seven years old.
And it's all good.