As I sit here and write this reflection I feel compelled to admit something I have made great efforts to avoid. But since my best attempts have failed and reality has set in for me (like it or not), you might as well be in on it too. Today I turned 30 years old. Now a few of you out there may be looking at my smiling mug week after week and thinking to yourself, There’s no way that chap is 30! And to you, I say thanks. But I must admit, that picture may or may not be old. Years of parenting and pastoring have left me with a bit less hair, a few more wrinkles, and a slightly larger waist. Old age, as one of my favorite parishoners tells me, isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
As today has approached I’ve taken some time to think back on the last 10 years of my life. I am continuously astonished at both the figurative and literal miles my twenties racked up. I began the decade spending the summer as a missionary in Madagascar, and since attended two different universities and lived in at least 6 different cities. Admittedly there are times in my reflection where I feel like I’ve racked up so many miles I need to trade myself in for a newer model. But then I remember that isn’t an option, and both cars I own were barely made when I was 20. So if I’m turning anything in, it should probably be one of them. But I digress.
I tell you all of that not simply to elicit sympathy, but to offer an 
invitation. You see, so often when we talk about our age we make it sound like age is the little dial continuously spinning and racking up miles on our inner odometer. But the problem with measuring our life that way is that in almost all cases involving odometers, less is more. But what if instead of measuring every mile, we instead started to look back for the milestones? And I’m not merely talking about birthdays and anniversaries. I’m talking about moments, big and small, long and short, where we grew, where we impacted someone’s world, and where we experienced the love and grace of God.
When I measure the last 10 years of my life that way, suddenly the 5 million minutes I’ll never have back start to look insignificant compared to the summer in 2005 when I built the same fort every week for three months with the kids from the Boys and Girls Club day camp. Compared to a moment I shared with my wife on a bridge in Geneseo where she whispered “I love you.” Compared to the day a bishop set the heaviest set of hands on my head I’ve every felt as she ordained me a pastor. Compared to standing helplessly in a room between my wife and our brand new daughter waiting to hear everyone was okay.
Scripture is full of examples of God’s people recognizing the significance of a moment and setting a milestone for that place. After a significant dream Jacob set a stone and renamed the place Bethel. After receiving God’s help against their enemy, Samuel set a stone and called it Ebenezer to mark the event. I can’t help but feel like they did that because they already knew something every ‘you name it’ year-old feeling sorry from themselves needs to hear. God’s people are not measured by their miles, but by their milestones.
And when I look back at my milestones instead of focusing on my miles, I have just one thought. And I hope and pray that when you look back on yours you will too. Thank be to God. It’s true what they say, age is only a number. At least it is for the children of a God who promises life everlasting, one perpetual milestone.