A clarity of thought and feeling comes upon me these days regarding what has become, of it’s own volition, a transition to a new stage of life. In July I will turn 65. Over the last 3 years, the physical evidence of aging has grown impossible to deny.
I remember one day catching sight of my forearm turning, and seeing tiny crepey wrinkles across my arm, just like my grandmother had. At the time I felt frightened, and went on a nutritional crash program, detoxing and loading with every anti-aging nutrient I could find. To no avail. My skin is thin, soft now, and delicate, not the resilient covering of a woman beset with the demands of childbirth. Age marked me with its inexorable advance.
Grasping at last the futility of resisting the irresistible force, I made the effort to get outside of my youth worshiping culture and take a look for a hidden goodness in God’s design for us humans. In the last few months I have found it. Slowly I enjoy a growing insight into the goodness of this natural event.
I am a grandmother. I remember the great love I had for my grandmother. Like me she was a tiny, round woman. Her arms and lap were warm pillows and her love and wisdom and steadfast faith in Jesus were a fence around my troubled life. Though immaculate and neat as the proverbial pin, she was not concerned with how she looked, or if she was retaining her youth, or Lord help us! her sex appeal!
Now certainly my hat’s off to any one who can retain their youth. But I have decided I am comfortable with this, and I embrace it. There is a great freedom knowing the fevers of my younger days are behind me now. What is available to me of late, such as never before, is a fresh strength of focus within my spiritual life. As I prepare to enter the last laps of my journey, I fly fast now, unfettered by the turbulent emotions of my younger days. Relief and release emerge, endowing me with a freedom I’ve not known.
My body is getting older, wearing out, while I, who resides therein, am getting wise, growing in detachment and focus. I figure at most the Good God may give me another 15 to 20 years. What I hope to show my children and grandchildren is the grace that flows from rejoicing in every stage of life, and celebrates the pleasures and peace of being an elder – the easy, loving detachment possible from cooling of the fires that burned me in my youth. I discover with delight, I truly suffer no desire to live past than my allotted 4 score and 10.