Flopping down across our king bed, I weave a strand of silver from beneath my brunette. (Well, it was more than a single strand.)
“Look at this” I frown to my husband. “I’m getting old”.
It’s not that I exactly mind this stage of life, my thirties have been a time of tremendous growth and stretching–a bit of sagging too, but mostly they’ve been years of flourish and healing. That is worth every single silver hair that’s dared to sprout.
But this night, with the thin shimmery strand between my fingers, thrust in my love’s face, I feel the weight of age too. I’m softer in all the wrong places and there’s a whole portion of my closet at risk of being hauled to the curb, for lack of wear. (It’s not the style that’s the trouble. You know what I mean?)
I’m trying to love myself just as I am–wrinkles, flesh, gray hairs and all, I’m trying to keep it all in perspective and repent of my vanity–but some nights, I wish I were ten years younger.
He looks up at me, the glow of his laptop illuminating his face, ” It’s okay, we’ll grow old together”.
He didn’t tell me to change. He didn’t ask me when I am going to get to the salon for a masking of the inevitable. He didn’t reminisce about what I used to look like. He smiled, his eyes twinkled, and he held me with his words: “It’s okay”. “Together”.
This is all we want most of the time. It’s not always a fixing that needs to happen. We’re not always a problem to solve. We need to know we’ll get through the graying seasons. We need to know that when we’ve slipped and dropped the ball, when our moods have sunk and we’ve lost our perspective, it’s not the end.
We need to know that when all hope seems to have vanished in a moment, that we can keep going, that there is still purpose and redemption for the impossible moments.
We need to know, we’re going to be okay.
Holley Gerth’s latest book, You’re Going to Be Okay, landed on my doorstep just a short week ago. It’s buttery yellow cover features a chair beside a table hosting a steaming cup of something yummy, in my mind, it’s a mocha, but maybe for you, it’s tea. Whatever your drink of choice, Holley invites you to the table, where she she sits across from you, and says these words, “You’re going to be okay”. That’s where she begins, but she doesn’t stop there. Her encouragement and truth-speaking goes on and on until the last page and when you come away from this book, you KNOW it. You are going to be okay. Holley’s book oozes graceful, inspiring encouragement to embrace where you are, to believe in the purpose behind it–to remember that what we often see as our deepest flaws can actually serve a grander purpose.
Go on, friend, grab that seat at the table, and remember, You’re Going to Be Okay