Last week I turned a year older. Another trip around the sun completed. My left knee woke me that morning as though putting a time stamp on the day. A reminder that with increased age comes surprises of a physical nature—not all of them welcome. What new adventures will this year bring?
I have known for a long time that aging is different for different people. My husband, for example, turned eighty last year. He mows lawns, prunes trees, and goes about his life as if he is still forty.
I thank God for this gift.
I, on the other hand, am not as fortunate. Arthur, as my doctor calls arthritis, has plagued my legs and joints for some time. I watched my mother deteriorate to the point she could no longer use her legs. I don’t know why. It just happened. She lived as vigorous a life as my husband but she fell apart in the end. As my stiffness increases I shudder to think I could follow in her footsteps. Not a happy thought.
But my mind is well. I’m still writing. I continue to run my household as I always have. I am slower, with the efficiency of a car operating on a missing cylinder, but I get there. I haven’t surrendered to the age stuff.
As one pastor of mine once said, “I always welcome a birthday. Especially when I consider the alternative.” Each day we are given is an opportunity not to be wasted.
In Lamentations, a biblical book that records the sorrow of Jeremiah over the destruction of Jerusalem, Jeremiah talks about finding hope in each new day.
Lamentations 3:22-23: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
I aim my sights at heaven, thanking God for what ever plans he has for me. Scripture promises me every morning will bring something new. I will embrace it with as much enthusiasm as I can find. If my life is in God’s hands, trusting Him is the best thing I can do.
Happy Birthday to me.