I was born in 1953. That means that each time the year ends with the digit three I begin another decade. The half decades for me end with the digit 8. There have been plenty of significant events in my life that have occurred in years ending with 3 or 8. We were married in 1973. Our daughter was born in 1983. I completed my doctorate in 1978. We were ordained in 1978.

Of course there have been plenty of significant events that occurred in years that ended with other digits. Our son was born in 1981. We moved to the Black Hills in 1995. Our Australian sabbatical occurred in 2006. Each of the ordained ministers serving our congregation lost a parent in 2011.

Still, the years when my age ends with a zero or a five seem to be significant years to me. Back when I was in college, before I was married, I drew up a sort of a list of goals with one significant life event for each five years. I was not yet twenty, and my inexperience showed in many ways in the list. The goals were extremely ambitious. They were focused almost entirely on my professional career. They assumed that there was a “ladder” to climb. And they failed to take into account significant things that happened in my life. I achieved the goal for age 20 (top of my class in GPA). I made the goal for age 25 (complete my D.Min.). I have not yet achieved the goal I set for 30 (published as sole author of a book). I was late in achieving the goal for age 35 (senior minister of a multiple staff congregation). That took me until I was 42. I suspect that I will never achieve some of the things on the list. I have no particular desire to be a Conference Minister or to head an instrumentality in the church’s national setting. The list stopped at age 50. I didn’t. The list had no goals for retirement. It looks possible that I might live beyond retirement age.

What is striking to me about the list is the things that are so important to me that never made the list. I didn’t put anything about children on the list. Being a father is one of the deepest blessings of my life. I can’t imagine my life without it. I wouldn’t trade being a father for all of the success and recognition in the world. I didn’t put becoming a grandfather on the list, either. Although it is hardly an accomplishment that I have done, it is a wonderful part of my life. The list doesn’t address the success of the congregations that I serve. It doesn’t speak of growth or balanced budgets or grassroots mission or welcoming new members. It doesn’t mention capital funds drives or mission events or relationships with sister congregations.

It turns out that the list of goals hasn’t been very important to my life.

It turns out that goal setting and planning haven’t been very important in my life.

You can’t plan for the Grace of God. You can’t plan for faithfulness and obedience to God’s call. Moses didn’t plan to lead Israel out of slavery in Egypt. Jeremiah didn’t plan to be God’s prophet in a time of exile and return. Paul didn’t plan to become the voice of the expanding church. I’m no Moses or Jeremiah or Paul. But I have experienced God’s grace.

There is nothing in the world like experiencing the Grace of God when someone hands you an infant to care for and love. There is nothing in the world like experiencing the Grace of God when life hands you an unforeseen opportunity and you move in a direction that you never thought you’d go. There is nothing in the world like experiencing the Grace of God when a congregation really understands that it exists to serve others, not just to build up its own success in the eyes of the world. There is nothing in the world like experiencing the Grace of God in the understanding that this world doesn’t run on my achievements and sometimes I am privileged to be a part of something much bigger than myself.

Over planning might eliminate surprises. But the surprises are the best part of life.

It has been more than four decades since I made the list. I haven’t kept it. I don’t even remember all of the things that were on the list. I doubt that I will become a nationally or internationally recognized expert on anything. I probably still have a somewhat over-inflated ego, but I don’t seem quite so brazen as I was in those days.

So I begin 2013 with modest resolutions. I resolve to continue to lose a bit of weight and become a bit more fit so that I am a wise steward of my own health. In doing so I hope that I will have a bit more energy for family and for service in the church. I resolve to look for the best in the people that I find challenging and difficult and to ask myself, “What is best for this person?” when I am moved to anger.

I don’t expect 2013 to be a year of major transitions in my life. I hope that I can be faithful in serving those who do experience changes of career, loss of loved ones, moves to new locations, and other life-changing events. If there is honor and recognition, I pray that it will come to the colleagues with whom I am privileged to work and to the congregation I am privileged to serve. More than that, I hope that we remember to give God the glory and honor and wonder and power.

I’ll celebrate birthday number 60. My beard has become the right color for the age. I’ll celebrate wedding anniversary number 40 – when I tell young couples of the joy of growing old together, I know the truth of which I speak.

And that will be enough. As I have learned that the years pass, so too do the decades. There will be more years that end with the digit 3 and right now it looks like I might be around for at least some of them.

Copyright © 2013 by Ted Huffman. I wrote this. If you want to copy it, please ask for permission. There is a contact me button at the bottom of this page. If you want to share my blog a friend, please direct your friend to my web site.