I Am Getting a Hearing Aid

I just turned 51 last month, and it seems it might be true that everything is downhill after 50. I finally went to have my hearing checked, after many complaints from my husband that I am not hearing him, and found that I have genetic hearing loss. The news was sobering. Contrary to all my denials, I’m not twenty anymore. And yet I can say with complete honesty that I am loving this season of my life. It is the boldest, most creative, stretching, and joyful time I can remember. I am finally okay being me, and I truly believe that everything I am is a gift from God. So here are a few things I’ve learned in my modest fifty years:

1. God can be trusted. You know how people can disappoint you so deeply that you begin to wonder whether anyone can be trusted? That was me. But as I look back over my life, I see that God is the one constant who never let go. I had a difficult upbringing. I suffered rejection and loss. I even disappointed myself. And through all of it, God was there, always working things out for my good.

   
   

2. People are better than we think. I saw the worst of people very early in life, and it frightened me. But I also saw the best of them: resilient, authentic, generous, and loving. God made us good, though sin has distorted that goodness. Yet I have seen again and again that His image still shines through in surprising ways.

   
   

3. Great things are easier than you think, and we can learn almost anything. As a child from a disadvantaged background, I used to look at the amazing things other people did and assume they had some kind of superpower. But I’ve realized I have most of the same tools as everyone else; I just have to use them. I won’t excel at everything, but I can learn enough to get by in most things, and when it comes to what I love, I can immerse myself and truly excel. Our ability to learn means we can walk through almost any open door and do well.

   
   

4. You don’t have to know everything; you just have to be willing to join hands with those who do. I learned this while creating a course of study to train pastors. It was such a joy to build a space where every contributor had the freedom to operate in their own gifts and strengths, and together we made something beautiful.

   
   

5. We have more arrows in our quiver than we think. Every experience, every task, develops a new skill in you, something you can draw on later in life. When I need to boost my confidence, I’ve learned to list everything I’ve ever done, even the things that seem insignificant. Like the times I went door to door selling food to raise money for youth camps, or the stories I told in the girls’ dorms at night that left the younger ones captivated. Every one of those moments revealed and built something in me.

   
   

6. It does get better. Hard times come in waves, and they can be devastating. But a wave always has to break eventually, and when it does, it gives way to clear skies and warm sunshine. We just have to keep riding the wave until it breaks.

   
   

7. Two things can be true at the same time. I can grieve the loss of a loved one and rejoice over the well-being of my children in the same breath. People can be good and still hurt and disappoint us. Almost anyone can show painful ignorance in one area and astonishing wisdom and empathy in another. The key is to extend grace when the pendulum swings the wrong way. Perhaps that is why I wasn’t as devastated by the diagnosis as I expected. The hearing aid feels less like a sign of decline and more like another tool for the journey.

   
   

8. The world is beautiful. I’ve had the privilege of traveling to many countries, and God’s good creation and human ingenuity never cease to amaze me.

   
   

9. Creativity and fun, good food and laughter, music and dancing, these are essential ingredients for a full life, not extras to feel guilty about.

If I had to choose one word to describe the past fifty years, it would be metamorphosis. God is constantly transforming, growing, and stretching me. A hearing aid is not the end of a story; it is simply another reminder that growth often requires adaptation. Metamorphosis is not just for the first half of life. I can’t wait to see what the next fifty years will teach me, hearing aid and all.

You are deeply loved. Go live like it.