“The most beautiful age for a woman is 29.” At least that’s what the DJ said on the radio station playing at the chiropractor’s office a while back.

I was stunned. Maybe because I’m almost 20 years beyond that and–therefore–at least somewhat biased.

Not that there aren’t a lot of beautiful 20-somethings out there, but it is such a shallow answer.

Physical beauty is such a small part of being beautiful. I am blessed to be surrounded by women who are generous and giving. Women who have invested part of their best years raising children and/or tending to ailing parents. The women I call beautiful are living outside of themselves to be hands, feet, and sometimes breath for others.

Beauty isn’t simply defined by age. It’s a lifestyle.