What 56 Years Has Taught Me

Today is my 56th birthday.

Tomorrow is our 24th wedding anniversary.

Milestones like these have a way of inviting reflection.

Birthdays naturally cause us to look backward and forward at the same time. We think about where we've been, where we are, and where we hope to go next.

Anniversaries do the same thing.

They remind us of promises made, memories created, lessons learned, and the journey that brought us to this moment.

As I find myself standing at the intersection of these two milestones, I've been thinking a lot about love, growth, and the spaces between chapters.

When I was younger, I thought life would eventually become more certain.

I imagined there would come a point where the big questions would be answered, the path would become obvious, and everything would make perfect sense.

Fifty-six years into this human experience, I've found that certainty is far more elusive than I once imagined.

What I've discovered instead is that life is a series of seasons.

Some seasons are filled with clarity.

Others are filled with questions.

Some chapters begin with excitement and certainty.

Others begin before we've fully understood how the previous chapter ended.

Most of us spend far more time than we realize in the space between chapters.

The space between who we were and who we are becoming.

The space between what once worked and what is asking to emerge next.

The space between certainty and possibility.

I've also been reflecting on what love has taught me over the years.

My mother taught me that love isn't measured by wealth, perfection, or ideal circumstances.

As a single mom, she worked incredibly hard to provide for my sister and me while making sure we never doubted that we were loved.

That lesson has stayed with me my entire life.

Becoming a father deepened that understanding.

Watching Eden and Xen grow from tiny premature babies into remarkable young adults has shown me that some of life's greatest gifts arrive with equal measures of joy, responsibility, uncertainty, and growth.

Parenting has taught me that love is often expressed through presence more than words.

Through showing up.

Through staying engaged.

Through caring enough to keep learning.

Building businesses, communities, partnerships, and friendships has expanded that lesson even further.

I've learned that meaningful relationships aren't built because we agree on everything. They are built because we remain willing to stay in conversation.

To listen, to understand, to grow, to tell the truth...

Sometimes we celebrate love as though it only exists in the easy moments.

But I've come to believe that some of the deepest expressions of love are found in the willingness to remain present when things are uncertain.

When answers haven't arrived yet.

When the future isn't fully clear.

When growth is calling us into unfamiliar territory.

At 56, I don't claim to have life figured out.

If anything, I have more curiosity than certainty.

What I do know is this:

The most meaningful experiences of my life have rarely come from having all the answers.

They have come from having the courage to take the next step without them.

To trust the process.

To trust the journey.

To trust that even seasons of uncertainty have something valuable to teach us.

Perhaps that's why birthdays matter.

Not because they remind us how many years we've lived.

But because they invite us to pause long enough to ask who we're becoming.

And perhaps that's why anniversaries matter too.

Not because they celebrate perfection.

But because they remind us of the relationships, experiences, and lessons that have shaped us along the way.

As I enter another year of life, I find myself feeling grateful.

Grateful for the people who have walked beside me.

Grateful for the lessons that came through both triumphs and challenges.

Grateful for the opportunities to love, serve, connect, and grow.

And grateful for the reminder that life isn't lived chapter by chapter.

It's lived moment by moment.

One conversation.

One choice.

One act of courage.

One step forward at a time.

If you find yourself in the space between chapters right now, know that you're not alone.

Sometimes the most beautiful parts of the story are written there.

Not when everything is certain.

But when we choose to move forward with faith, curiosity, and an open heart anyway.