Yesterday, I turned 40. Whether I was already in this stage of life (probably, is the answer) there is no denying I am middle-aged now. I didn’t especially consider myself young before, but again, those days are officially over.

This year has been a bit of a wild one. My pastorate of the last 12 years officially terminates at the end of this month (though my last Sunday has been and gone) and my mother of the last 40 years found herself no longer in the land of the living. As a result of those two inauspicious events, various plans for the year also found themselves shelved. The year has been somewhat sub-optimal.

Middle-age does not seem to arrive with any great fanfare. In fact, it can arrive mired in troubles. Finishing a pastorate and losing a parent don’t leave much room for existential naval-gazing.

At the same time, despite that, I am moving into a new job. It comes with a suitably poncey title. It is a ministry role that I would have no ability to do were it not for the pastorate I have been doing. I have long been of the view that the Lord gets his people to wherever he wants them and knows what it takes to get them there. I am also minded to reckon, as the bible does, there is a season for everything and all that.

Turning 40 has brought no grand revelations that I am aware of. But I hope it may reinforce some basic truth: God remains sovereign, he remains good and 40 years of faithfulness to me seems unlikely to disappear.