Decade birthdays are great and weird and a little scary. These are dates that you approach with excitement and a little trepidation and a dash of dread.

I remember when I was about about to turn 30. I felt so old. It sounded so strange. My sister sent me flowers at work. Someone had sent me flowers at work?! I started to celebrate. Thirty was pretty great.

Fast forward ten years.

Forty. That’s a different story. I definitely approached that birthday with some fear and trepidation. Thirty now sounded so young. Forty feels old for sure. I remember my mom being forty. She seemed old.

Enter fifth graders. The year that I turned forty, my fifth grade class made it bearable. No, they made it fun. Downright fun. They gave me a party. They brought me cake. Lots of cake. They bought me black balloons. The whole works. They made me cards. On one of the cards was written, “You’re not over the hill, you’re over the mountain!” In big black letters. Capital letters. It made me laugh. It was fun. It was a celebration. I went home happy. Forty and happy. Forty was great.

Fast forward another ten years.

Fifty. Ahhh, now there’s another story. I approached fifty with some definite weird and apprehensive feelings. I stopped highlighting my hair. You know, I didn’t want to be that person who was 100 years old and still blonde. Not time to fight it anymore. It was time to embrace the gray or the white or whatever color it turned on its own.

I spent time in reflection about how I wanted to “be” at fifty. I did some serious pondering. I actually feared this one a bit. I feared it, but it turned out to be GREAT and the most freeing of all of the decade birthdays!

The result of all that pondering? Two things: gratitude and contentment. As the “big day” approached, I felt the strongest sense of thankfulness. An overwhelming sense of thankfulness. I was thankful to be alive. I was thankful for God’s mercy. I was just downright thankful. And, it felt good.

Why had I been worried about a birthday? About getting older? I decided instead to have gratitude and to be content. It was a deliberate choice. I felt free and happy. Happy and free. Free to praise God and remember the good. Free to embrace the getting “older” and free to enjoy His goodness.

Gratitude and contentment.

Also, turning 50 was crazy fun because I was turning 50 along with my super-awesome fifth grade teaching partner. Lots of anticipation and big splash for this birthday. Our students threw us a rockin’ 50s skate party complete with poodle skirts and pigtails. We had a blast! Fifty was the best yet!

But, this past year? The year I turned 51? Well, it felt different. I still had a party and cake and fun and all of that. But, I just felt, well, older.

This is when it really happened. You know: the defining moment. I had to make a mental, firm, active, resolute decision. I had to embrace aging. I was not going to succumb to feelings of being “old” even when it was harder to get up after sitting on the floor. Even if I felt (and heard!) the joints creaking and crackling as I stood up. Snap! Crackle! Pop! And even if I needed to drink more coffee to keep up with everything.

It was a decision. To love life, to be thankful, to enjoy it, to praise God, AND to resolve it over and over again. And again. Each day if necessary.

So as my back is a little achy while I am leaning over my computer typing this, I am thankful. And, I am thankful for each birthday, not just the big splash decade ones. I am thankful for each day. For each and every day.

Live life and don’t miss it. Life is a gift. Be content and thankful. Press on!