Today I turned 66 years old. That number lands differently than others have. Perhaps it’s because this birthday arrives in a season of transition—forty years of marriage, forty-eight years of pastoral ministry, and my first full year retired from full-time church leadership. Milestones have a way of clarifying life. They don’t answer every question, but they do help separate what is essential from what is expendable.

At 66, what matters most is not what I’ve accumulated, but what has shaped me. Here are seven things time has taught me to hold onto.

1. Relationships matter more than results.

For many years, my life was measured by outcomes such as attendance, growth, deadlines met, and goals achieved. Ministry was a privilege, but it also trained me to value results. Yet somehow, for me, relationships are secondary to productivity.

At 66, I’ve learned that results fade, but relationships endure. Programs end, seasons change, and accomplishments are eventually forgotten, but the way we love people leaves a lasting imprint. What matters most now are not the numbers we achieved, but the names we remember.

The relationships that have shaped me—my wife of forty years, family, friends, and the people I’ve been honored to serve—have proven far more significant than any measurable success. Love practiced consistently outweighs results celebrated briefly.

2. Faith is meant to be lived, not just proclaimed.

After decades of sermons, meetings, hospital visits, weddings, and memorial services, I’ve learned to value a quieter faith—one less concerned with having all the answers and more committed to trusting God in the unanswered places.

Faith matters most when it shows up in patience, kindness, humility, and hope. Belief becomes credible when it moves from the pulpit to the kitchen table.

Faith is life-giving, not life-judging.

3. Presence is better than pace.

Younger years are often measured by speed—how much can be done and how quickly. At 66, I’m learning the gift of slowing down. Presence allows me to notice conversations that don’t need fixing, moments that don’t need multitasking, and days that don’t need to be productive to be meaningful.

A full life is not the same as a hurried one. Will Rogers quipped, “The older we get, the fewer things seem worth standing in line for.”

4. Perspective comes with time.

Aging brings clarity that no book or seminar can provide. Studies consistently show that people in their 60s report higher levels of contentment and emotional well-being than many younger adults. That feels true. I worry less about what people think and more about how I treat them.

Not every battle deserves my energy. Not every opinion requires my response. Nont every post requires my feedback. Perspective is one of the quiet gifts of growing older.

We are not wired to resolve every problem or bear the weight of every grief outside our zip code.

5. Calling outlives titles.

Retirement has reminded me that calling does not end when a job does. It simply changes form. Encouraging others still matters. Listening still matters. Showing up still matters.

The difference now is that these things happen without an agenda, a deadline, or a business card, and that may be the truest expression of calling yet.

6. A sense of humor helps you age gracefully.

If you can’t laugh at yourself, aging becomes far more difficult than it needs to be. A good sense of humor keeps perspective intact and pride in check.

Years ago, Henry Ward Beecher suggested, “A person without a sense of humor is like a wagon without springs. It’s jolted by every pebble on the road.”

7. Gratitude is a game-changing life discipline.

If I had to sum up turning 66 in one word, it would be gratitude. Gratitude for years lived, lessons learned, love received, and mercy extended. Gratitude for a God who has been faithful in every season—especially the ones I didn’t understand at the time.

I don’t know how many birthdays remain, but I hope that when my time comes to depart this life, I go in my sleep with a smile on my face and a heart filled with gratitude.

Turning 66 has reminded me that what matters most is surprisingly simple and sufficient: loving well, trusting deeply, and living gratefully, one day at a time.