I got up on a Saturday morning, still half asleep, wobbling towards the pantry to heat up my baby’s breakfast. My husband, the early riser, was seated at the sofa and greeted me cheerfully, “Happy Birthday, my dear! What do you want to do today?” I rubbed my eyes, and candidly said, “I’m going to nurse the baby,” and headed towards the nursery.

Thirty. Wow. A big milestone, people would say. Stepping into the big 3-0. But the day felt quite ordinary, with caring for my little Julia. My day revolved around nap and play times, nursing and solids. Not to mention multiple diaper changes, and juggling chores while carrying her in one hand. There was little room to think about what I wanted to do. There was just too much to actually do.

Though Jon was sweet to arrange a dinner for our little family of three, and we would later spend the night at the hotel–aside from the change of venue, everything else was as per usual. Since my daughter’s arrival, every waking moment has been filled with tending to her needs. But I realize that this is now my reality. That as a mother, I now have a dependent, for whom I have been called to lay down my life.

Nonetheless, I would still dare say that my 30th birthday had been quite special. And I would not have spent it any other way. For on my birthday weekend, we, too celebrated our daughter’s baptism at church. On my first birthday as a mom, I offered up my little Julia to Him whom I know to be best to keep her.

Jesus’ life before thirty

Funnily enough, the two weeks leading up to my birthday weekend, we have been going through a sermon series at church unpacking Luke 3, revolving around the beginnings of Jesus’ ministry, at 30 years of age (Luke 3:23).

It is worthwhile to note that not much of Christ’s life was told of prior to His turning 30. At childhood He spoke with much wisdom in the Temple, which made the elders wonder (Luke 2:41-52). But not much else is mentioned, that we may conclude that He perhaps lived quite an ordinary life.

This may seem strange to us, who live in such a fast paced, productivity-driven world. People seek after the 30 under 30 title, believing that the more you achieve at a younger age, the better. The earlier you enroll in school, the quicker you graduate, the more experience you secure under your belt, (fill in the blank)—the better.

So why did the Lord of All decide to ‘waste away’ His 30 years of life?

But did He?

Surely, Jesus was not in a hurry. He did not need to fit into the mould. The Orchestrator of Time knew His own timeline. And His “ordinariness” humbles and reminds us that God never demanded that we all be the most talented, the most high-achieving, the most outstanding of them all.

For in living a quiet 30 years of life, what Jesus did, was live faithfully.

my own thirty years

This makes me ponder upon my own past thirty years. Had I been faithful in the life that God had apportioned me? Surely I know there are plenty where I have fallen short. Times where I have doubted in His plan, and moments when I have fumbled in my own ways.

But to look back upon thirty years of life and think of all the supposed “achievements” I may have had: the “three masters degrees” (as my husband likes to joke about), the positions entrusted to me at work, the various boards I have been appointed to…truth be told, none of them has given me an anchoring in my confidence, nor a feeling of sufficiency.

With each “achievement,” I find myself weighed down. Upon hindsight I see that there had always been room to do better. Thoughts of how I would have done things differently surface… Had I wasted my thirty years of life?

I pray not.

But to look to Jesus’ life at thirty, and see that He had lived out ordinary–oh how that gives me comfort! For the faithfulness God calls us to as Christians is not unmistakable perfection. He does not demand that we live with no regrets, nor squabble our ‘what ifs’. But rather, to submit and trust Him, even in our most misguided and uninspired of days.

life at thirty: the nursery, my sacred space

As for my 30th year–God has gifted me the beautiful task of motherhood. In the past months, especially, my life has quickly revolved around my little one—her needs, her development, her ever blooming personality. A previously public life had retreated behind the nursery door.

These months, I have had to take big steps back from work, and a pause on my involvement in church ministry. Days go by so quickly, and at the end of many, I have felt less and less useful and productive.

But sobering is the reminder that this–motherhood–is, too, ministry. This is my ministry. This is my work. This is my sacred space.

The daily demands of a mother is often overlooked. The act of caring for a baby through mundane tasks such as diaper changes and feeding are often delegated, because they are seen as the ‘lesser’ work. But is loving and nurturing not a most important work?

For tending to the quiet early years of Christ, were the labors of love of His earthly mother. Though we perhaps do not know of the extent of her sacrifices–surely, Jesus did. Truly, He saw her.

And how deep of an assurance it is to know that God sees me here, too, in my mundane mothering.

“As there are no little people in God’s sight, so there are no little places. To be wholly committed to God in the place where God wants him–this is the creature glorified.” – The Lord’s Work in the Lord’s Way & No Little People by Francis Schaeffer, p.73

Jesus’ baptism at thirty

After thirty years of ordinary, we see a poignant turn in the life of Christ, when He would begin His public ministry. But prior to it all, was His baptism, where the Father affirmed His identity, proclaiming, “[this is] My beloved Son, [in whom] I am well pleased,” (Luke 3:22).

This is important because we learn of the most basic truth of the Christian life: that just as Christ is Son prior to Him having done many signs and wonders, we, too, have our identity affirmed, not in what we do, but in God’s kind grace bestowed.

What a remarkable gift this is! For while the world teaches us that we must earn our seat at the table…God in Christ gives us grace most freely. “Not by might, nor by power, but by [the] Spirit,” (Zech. 4:6) who bestows us the gift of adoption as sons and daughters, that we may be free from a performance-ladened life.

Julia’s baptism at my thirtieth

Quite the heartfelt parallel, then, did I get to experience, as my daughter was baptized on the weekend I turn 30. I would not be able to think of a celebration more special than that.

Upon Julia’s baptism, witnessed by family and friends, I am reminded that my daughter is not my own. But that she first belongs to the Lord.

A deep comfort it is to me, to know that her identity as child of God does not begin with her, but with God Himself. In her infancy and inability to profess Christ as Lord, I find assurance in Jesus’ steadfast hold of her. And so unto Him I surrender my child. Unto Him I trust her.

the nursery: my Secret Place

Such a public declaration through baptism is important because it keeps me accountable on days where I gloat, or beat myself up, about this new assignment of motherhood.

The thought of raising up a girl in this broken world is terrifying. But to know that my baby girl is not mine to keep, but God’s to tend–liberates me from unrealistic expectations and spurs me instead to love faithfully.

And loving faithfully does not have to be loud. For through the toughest nights of putting an overtired baby on a sleep regression to bed, I get to experience God’s patience and forbearance with me in my resistance to rest in Him. In the little mundane and unglamorous task of diaper changes, I get to remember God’s faithfulness to cleanse me in my own mess. Through the difficult and exhausting breastfeeding sessions, I get to see a glimpse of what Christ’s self-giving love looks like.

So though the days have surely been long, the nursery has been my Secret Place, where God meets me in my imperfect mothering.

And so I thank Him, thank God again, for my thirty years–filled with imperfect laboring, but always met by His kind grace. For the God who assigns me different tasks in the seasons He sets, is the same God who finds and meets me, even behind the nursery door.

So here’s to thirty years, and thirty onwards: that I may continue to live unreservedly unto God, even in the unseen pockets of motherhood, that I pray, may be a testimony unto my children (to come), who are His to begin with.