Today, my husband turns forty.

Like many people approaching a milestone birthday, he’s joked about getting older. There have been lighthearted conversations about whether forty is the age to buy a sports car or make some dramatic life change. But beneath the jokes is something many of us quietly feel:

• The years seem to pass a little faster.
• The mirror begins to tell a slightly different story.
• You start looking behind you just as much as you look ahead.

Birthdays have a way of forcing a pause. Some come and go without much thought, but others invite us to look back over where we’ve been and wonder where God is leading us next.

As I thought about Chris today, I realized that birthdays aren’t really about the number. They’re about remembering the story God has been writing all along.

Twenty Years of Grace and Growth

When I met Chris over twenty years ago, neither of us could have imagined where that story would lead.

We’ve shared college classrooms, our wedding day, first jobs, career changes, unexpected moves, financial struggles, quiet victories, and countless ordinary evenings. We’ve built a home together, welcomed more animals onto our 25 acres than either of us probably planned for, opened our doors to family when they needed us most, and dreamed dreams that often felt much bigger than our circumstances.

Like every marriage, our story has been filled with quiet moments that only God fully understands. But this past year has changed the way I look at every single milestone.

Two Waiting Rooms, One Faithful God

Before cancer ever became part of my story, uncertainty had already become part of Chris’s.

Nearly five years ago, doctors discovered an enlarged lymph node. It wasn’t something that disappeared after one scan. Year after year it remained, slowly increasing in size and bringing with it the quiet questions so many people know all too well: What if it changes? What will the next scan show?

So we waited. We prayed. We trusted God one appointment at a time.

Then, life surprised us.

After my own diagnosis earlier this year, Chris went in for another follow-up scan. This time, the enlarged lymph node that had slowly grown over nearly five years had completely returned to normal size. We thanked God with overflowing hearts.

Almost at the exact same moment, our journeys crossed paths in a way only God could orchestrate: one season of waiting quietly came to an end just as another one was beginning.

If I’ve learned anything through all of this, it’s that God’s faithfulness isn’t measured by whether every story unfolds the same way. One prayer was answered exactly as we had hoped; another led us down a road we never wanted to travel. Yet God was no less faithful in one story than He was in the other.

He was with us in both waiting rooms.

The Season of Forty

As I reflected on Chris stepping into a new decade, I couldn’t help but notice how often Scripture speaks about seasons of forty:

• Noah endured 40 days of rain before stepping into a world made new.
• Moses spent 40 years in Midian before God called him to lead His people.
• The Israelites wandered for 40 years, learning to depend on God one day at a time.
• Elijah journeyed 40 days before hearing God’s gentle whisper.
• Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness before beginning His public ministry.

Those stories aren’t meant to suggest that forty is a magical number. The number isn’t the point—preparation is.

Again and again, God reminds us that He often does His deepest work long before anyone else can see it. Seasons that feel ordinary, slow, or even painful are often the very places where He is shaping our character, strengthening our faith, and preparing us for whatever comes next.

Some of the greatest lessons we’ve learned haven’t come during celebrations. They’ve come in waiting rooms, during difficult conversations, through unanswered prayers, and in moments when all we could do was take the next faithful step.

Those seasons weren’t wasted. And neither are yours.

Numbering Our Days

Whatever season you find yourself in today—whether you’re celebrating, beginning a new career, waiting for a doctor’s call, grieving, or wondering why God seems quiet—remember this: God is never absent from the ordinary. He is faithfully working in ways we often cannot recognize until we stop and look back.

“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” — Psalm 90:12

The goal isn’t simply to collect birthdays. The goal is to become more like Christ with every year He gives us.

Lord willing, next summer there will be one special week when Chris and I will both be forty at the exact same time. We’ve already talked about taking a trip to celebrate—not because of the number itself, but because of the incredible grace that brought us there.

Setting an Ebenezer

In 1 Samuel, after God delivered Israel, Samuel set up a stone of remembrance and named it Ebenezer, declaring:

“Thus far the Lord has helped us.” — 1 Samuel 7:12

Perhaps that’s what milestones are really meant to become. Not monuments to our own accomplishments, but reminders of God’s constant faithfulness.

Today, I celebrate forty years of the man God created Chris to be. I celebrate his quiet strength, and the husband who has stood beside me through uncertainty, sacrifice, laughter, heartbreak, and hope.

Most of all, I celebrate the God who has carried both of us through every chapter:

• Through years of waiting.
• Through answered prayers.
• Through unexpected diagnoses.
• Through new beginnings.
• Through every ordinary day in between.

And because He has been faithful thus far… we can trust Him with whatever lies ahead.

Happy 40th Birthday, Chris. Thank you for walking this journey beside me.

And thank You, Lord, for reminding us that every milestone is another opportunity to remember Your faithfulness.

A Question for You Today: When you look back over your current season of life, what is one “Ebenezer”—a moment, a prayer, or an ordinary day—that reminds you of how far God has brought you? I’d love to read your story in the comments below!