"...If we do not give up." Reflections on turning 60

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

I turned 60 today, and I want to encourage young men, middle-aged men, and semi-older men that life gets better the longer you stay the course. That doesn’t mean the course is easy, or ever gets easy, but it can get better and much more fruitful. As a matter of fact, some of your best years could quite possibly be the later ones.

Take it from a man who has struggled with course direction most of his life.

My childhood was mostly spent trying to figure out where I belonged. My parents divorced before I was born, and I was raised by my grandparents. I spent summers with my mother in California and my aunt and uncle in Canada. My biological father was in question, and I often wondered to whom I really belonged. This disunity produced insecurity and a deep sense of abandonment that would follow me through most of my adult life.

Added to the confusion of whose I was, my teen years were spent trying to figure out who I was. I had little direction, and most of my identity came from trying to impress wayward friends. My 20s were spent trying to figure out where I needed to go and what I wanted to be. My 30s were spent going in the completely wrong direction for nearly a decade. And my 40s were spent recovering from my 30s and finally getting my bearings in life.

All of these years left me wondering if I had wasted my life.

To make matters worse, the common thread that ran through these decades (and every life) is that word “spent.” It’s gone. I can’t get it back. The specific transaction is over. The mistakes cannot be undone. The hurt cannot be erased. The scars will always remain.

And then I turned 50, and for the first time in my life, I looked back and felt wiser. I was now an official “elder,” and along with some gray in my beard, I had a suitcase full of hard-learned lessons that made me shrewder than most men my age. I grew very serious about things. I saw the urgency of eternity in everything I attempted.

It was during this decade of life that I made a serious study of my priorities, time, and values. Serving the Lord, being served by the Lord, leading and loving my family, spending time with my small circle of close friends, and being as productive as possible at my job became my top priorities. Everything else was let go. I learned how to say “No” to good things so I could say “Yes” to the best things.

Less is always better when you want to give your best to what matters most. My 50s were a great decade of reaping redemption and grace. 

And just like that, this decade too is over.

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

The good news of this promise (and it’s all good news) is that it gives the hope of a “due season.” So, whatever season you are in, there is still a time coming when things buried and long forgotten will begin to grow. The challenging news of this promise is that whatever you sow, that you will reap.

The promise is predicated on “doing good,” and the natural law of “reaping” is that you reap what you sow; you reap more than you sow; and, of course, you reap long after you sow.

But the Lord has ways of redeeming our harvest. After all, if the sowing, growing, and “doing good” were all up to us, all our reaping would be rotten. That’s why Paul said, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” (1 Corinthians 3:6) God always gives the growth. And even when seeds seem recklessly scattered, nothing is random. Some will eventually find their place in the good ground (Luke 8:8).

My 50s were one of those “due seasons,” spent enjoying the fruit of some of those scattered seeds, where God graciously gave the growth. I became a better husband, a better dad, and a better friend. I became a grandfather. I became more comfortable with who I was. Most importantly, I became more satisfied with who I belonged to. I was a child of the King! All of this was a gracious harvest redeemed by the Lord. Had I given up along the way, none of it would have been reaped.

I turn 60 today, and I realize (if the Lord allows) I may have two or three decades left. And by God’s strength, I am not weary. And by God’s grace, I’m still doing good. And by God’s sovereign providence, I will not give up.

And this “due season” continues to grow. I’m still passing out that little book, Wrestling with an Angel, and receiving encouraging messages from people who have been blessed by my son’s story. 

Jake, who is now an old man of 33, is still teaching me hard lessons of God’s grace. 

I’m still traveling with Guidelight, bringing biblical hope and practical help to families experiencing childhood disability. I’m still teaching the Bible at Redemption Church. I’m still loving and leading my family (that now includes four grandchildren). I’m still a police officer, although I spend more time at a desk now than on the street. 

I’m still a son of the King. I'm still a trophy of God’s mercy and grace.

You may notice, I have replaced the word “spent” with the word “still.”

I look forward to these final years. The finish line is not quite visible yet, but I hear other older runners telling me, “It’s close. It’s right around the corner. Don’t get tired now. Don’t give up. The prize is up ahead. Jesus is at the finish line waiting for you.”

“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”