Even to your old age and gray hairsIsaiah 46:4
I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
I really wish I could check out the recent security camera footage from Black and White Coffee Roasters in Wake Forest. Friday, mid-afternoon (walking from where I parked on White Street, slightly downhill to the Savings and Loan), there should be a very entertaining clip of me crossing their parking lot, catching my foot on one of the concrete parking markers, then stumbling forward at an ever increasing rate of speed until I finally lose hope of finding my balance and fall headlong and in spectacular fashion – by then almost running – hard onto the blacktop.
I lay still for a good thirty seconds before moving, only to find my glasses ten feet away, my wallet a little farther removed, and my phone maybe twenty feet ahead of me.
I was miraculously unharmed, other than some good bruising down my left side, some gravel ground into my left hand, and a considerable amount of misplaced dignity strewn around downtown Wake Forest.
But really, wouldn’t it be the best to be able to find the video and post it?
Reality sets in:
Somehow, somewhere, I am going to have to cone to terms with the fact that I am no longer twenty-two years old and essentially indestructible! Eventually, sooner than later, one of these missteps is going to cost me a broken bone or two and then I will be forced to reevaluate.
Curiously however, I’m not concerned about things like the appearance of aging, or even the perception from other people that I am absolutely not a young man any more. I’m fine with it, my dignity is not dependent on such externals, I really don’t have any need for denial.
Not pride but functionality:
My issue is one not of pride but functionality. I simply don’t want to be compromised in any way – I don’t have the time for it. I perceive myself to be strong; my numbers (weight, cholesterol, pulse, blood pressure, triglycerides etc.) are better than ever; I have the sense that I still like what I see in the mirror; I don’t feel even the least sense of intellectual decay. The short version is “I look great I feel great” – end of story.
Yet here I am, sixty-five years old now and this is the second time I have fallen – hard – in three weeks.
Maybe it is time to look ahead into the future – even into the near future? Maybe I should take a step back, slow down? Maybe I need to take a little more care? Maybe I need to weigh the options and turn things down a notch or two? Maybe?
Then again, maybe not!
I promise to keep you posted! – DEREK