What Turning 50 Means to Me

I know I have shared that I am excited to see this day come. I’ve shared a little of my story that was the worst time in my life, but I haven’t shared some of the intimate details that are actually the driving force behind my depths of gratitude to be turning 50. I don’t tell this story for anyone to feel sorry for me, if you feel called to pray please do, but know that I am aware I am fully loved. This story is painful but it is not told to hurt anyone, it is meant for me to find healing and move forward. This year, my year of BLESSED, has been one of the hardest and best years of my life. I chose to go to an intensive counseling week in Colorado a few months ago and that was the apex I needed to arrive at to begin to live again. I see my 50’s being the most productive time of my life and I intend to do it with Jesus leading the way.

Ten years ago I was fighting for my life. The doctors told Hubby that I wouldn’t survive without life support and they weren’t sure I would with it. I spent a week on life support that year and two months in the hospital. I had to learn to walk again, write again, learn to use the computer and cell phones again, it was tough. I’d lost all of the muscle in my legs because I had been in bed for so long. While in the hospital, my husband was there three times a day and his parents were there for at least an hour every day. My children were not allowed to visit because of the H1N1 virus so I didn’t see them for over a month. During that time I saw my dad once and one of my brothers once. None of them saw me on life support, but my oldest brother was in town for business from Tulsa, where they live, and he stopped by and saw me in ICU. I couldn’t talk out loud because they had just removed the tube, I had to wait 24 hours. I tried whispering to him but he couldn’t hear me. I had so much to say since I hadn’t talked for a week alas, I had to wait another day. My dad was there with his wife the first week I was in Baptist, while they were running tests to no avail. I couldn’t eat and I wasn’t going to the bathroom, but they wouldn’t open me up to see what the problem was. I was given blood transfusions in that hospital that we attribute to keeping me alive since I didn’t eat for three weeks. My dad didn’t realize how sick I was but I was close to giving up and a lot of it had to do with him. I’ve spent most of my life attempting to discover my value, which is what the male parent instills in his children, and at 39 years old I nearly gave up on finding it.

A couple of years later I was talking to my aunt in Texas, my dad’s twin sister, whom I hadn’t talked to in many years. I said something to her about nearly passing away and she was shocked. She told me she didn’t know anything about it. I told her what happened and didn’t think twice about her not knowing, that was normal to me. A couple of weeks later I got an email from my dad, he loves to email. The email read something to the effect that I never almost died, he didn’t know why I would say that to his sister and that “There I go again, making things up.” That was one of his most famous things he pointed out to me my entire life, what a liar I was. That rejection and those words I’ve heard my entire life caused me to almost give up again. My gut gave out after that happened and my pain pill taking increased. I nearly died again in 2012. Rejection. Again.

This year in Colorado I faced those demons in my life that have torn me up for my whole life. I had to admit that I am not important to my birth family that is still living. We were all so abused, I don’t fault my brothers for it. What I do is give the judgement to Jesus and I now choose a life apart. That was a very scary thing for me to face. The truth is though, I have never been like them. I am like my mom. When she died in 2007, a part of me died. She was the only one I knew really loved me. I mess up, I am human. But, I try very hard to be a good wife, mom, and friend to those God allows me to know in my life. I’ve had to figure out that it isn’t important that I matter to my birth family because the truth is still that I matter. I matter to Jesus and the story He is telling through me. I matter to God who created me. I matter the Holy Spirit who lives in me. I matter to my dear sweet Hubby. I matter to our incredible three adult kids, they call me their best friend. I matter to my in-laws. I matter to our team at the office. I matter to the girlfriends and guy friends God has had walk my way. I matter to so many and so on this 50th birthday, I am claiming my life back. I am walking away from those to whom I do not matter for the sake of the ones to whom I matter very much.

Life is hard. Love is scarce. Hope is abundant. I have hope that God will do great things through my life and that I mattered mostly to Him who saved me. I am 50 today. My feet hurt most evenings, my shoulders, elbows, and hands give me fits, and I am way to used to what pain feels like for a 50 year old. Things could be worse. For those who know me and love me, you make it worth it all. Thank you Father God for choosing me to be Your Miracle.

“Blessed is she who believed that God would do what He said He would do.”       Luke 1:45

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