LESSONS LEARNED FROM TURNING 28

By Andrea Guachalla

I recently turned 28 years old. The same age my mother had when she married my father. And I don’t know what to make of it.

I always saw this age as both something to look forward to and to fear. Turning 28 years old seemed to me like the age where you become a true adult if that makes sense and I dwelled upon that thought subconsciously for years.

Now that I’ve actually turned 28, I don’t know how to feel about it, but I can say I’ve learned a couple of things…

Back in the day, when I heard my mom’s wedding story, my first thought was that she was “too old” when she got married. And I don’t mean it in a disrespectful way. After all, I was only 10 years old at the time and to my knowledge it was more common for people to marry in their early twenties than in their mid or late twenties. Hence my surprise when I found out my mother had married almost going into her thirties.

With time the thought stuck. Not only because the number 28 got ingrained in my subconscious but because the fact that people marry and start having children in their early twenties is statistically true in most of the world as I later found out. Even as I went into the field of science I encountered many studies that attempted to explain the reason, and did so quite accurately.

Well… I am 28 years old now, and I’m neither married nor have any children and I feel the temptation to be discontent with the fact that I don’t fall into what’s statistically common. Moreso because I fall far from what is expected from young adults in a church context that rightfully (and perhaps sometimes too persistently) encourages us to marry young instead of waiting around forever before tying the knot.

Now, I’m not gonna lie and say it was always my dream to marry and have children. That was not the case at all. The only times marriage came across my mind for most of my life was to assure myself that I would be married before I turned 28 for sure. Not because I cared for marriage, but because that seemed to be the social norm and I didn’t want to fall behind. I know many Christian women who have desired marriage and a family of their own since they were little girls. And that is a good thing. But it was not really a desire I ever had before I became a Christian, and I even despised the idea for a while. My only dream as I went into my late teens was to earn a doctorate degree and have a couple of published books by the time I reached 28. 

That would surely fulfill me, right? Well… Not really.

When I became a Christian at 21 years old, after years of being an atheist feminist who was very invested in her scientific career, I started desiring marriage because I realized being a wife and a mother was not at all what feminism told me it was. Marrying and having children was not a form of “modern slavery” or “patriarchal oppression” but rather a beautiful portrayal of Christ’s unconditional love towards the Church. Who wouldn’t want to be part of that beautiful covenant?

And yet, here I am… 7 years later, still unmarried, with no children, and no doctorate degree. I mean… I haven’t even earned a master degree at this point though I was seen as someone who had a lot of potential in the scientific field before I had to leave my career. And no, there is no reason for me to think I will marry or have children any time soon either. 

I missed the deadline. Big time.

Except that I didn’t really…

Nowhere in the Bible did God promise me that I would marry young, and have a lot of children, and earn a doctorate degree, and have it all as I had planned. God’s deadlines are not my deadlines and that is and will always be better than having it my way. God is in absolute control of how my story unfolded and how it continues to unfold.

However, not having all that I thought I would have by now tempts me to feel discontent and bitter. At some point it even made me angry at God because: “why wouldn’t he give me what I want if I’m such a good servant?” Except that I am not a good servant. If anything I am one full of pride, one who believes God owes me something for my “good deeds”.

I’ve gone through different stages of contentment and discontentment throughout the years but it was not too long ago that I realized I had been, and still am sometimes, asking God the wrong question all along: “why do you not give me what I desire if my desires are good?” I often asked Him in my prayers, when I really should have been asking: “Why would you give me, a wretched sinner, anything?” 

This week my pastor said something that is true of all human beings: “we are envious by nature”. We tend to compare ourselves to others and wish we could have the same things they have or enjoy the same or greater blessings than they do. We are by nature ungrateful. We are always on the lookout for things to complain about, and completely ignore what God provides for us in His grace. We are always discontent with our circumstances. And I fall into this more often than not too. 

Even if I had gotten married young, and had had children already, even if I had accomplished all that I wanted in the academic field, I would have still found things to be discontent about. I’ve experienced this already. I tried to find fulfillment in my career, and I encountered emptiness. I tried finding satisfaction in being a renowned scientist, and it felt meaningless. I realized each step of my way all I was doing was waiting for the next thing (next job, next achievement, next prize) thinking it would fulfill me not realizing that only in Christ can we find true fulfillment because He is the only one who can deal with our REAL problem: sin, and thus a life of enmity with God.

There is something R. C. Sproul says in his book “Holiness of God” that I found to be true of myself:

“Once we are used to God being merciful, the next step is easy: we demand him to be it. When mercy doesn’t arrive our first response is anger towards God along with the protest: “this is not fair”.”

– R. C. Sproul

Even if I never get married, and I never have children, and I never get whatever I desire, no matter how godly those desires seem to be, I could never say that it is because God is unjust and He is making an innocent person suffer deliberately. I deserved death and yet he gave me life, I deserved eternal condemnation, and yet He gave me salvation through the sacrifice of His only Son. What is there to call unjust?

As I go forward to the post-28 season of my life I choose to hold my hopes and desires with an open hand, trusting God is the one writing my story, but ultimately I pray that God will give me (and you too) one single and simpler desire: to serve him with all my heart, body and soul exactly where he has me because

“God does not owe me anything.
And I owe him everything.”

– R. C. Sproul