By Charles Towne
It sure is strange, almost unbelievably so, to be the same age as old people.
There I was, one day, a young guy doing all the things young guys do, and then, like a fart in a windstorm, it seemed to have vanished. Oh, it’s not that the will is gone, no; no, the will is still there, but here I am, crowding ninety years with a vengeance, and my body blusters and tells me I can still run marathons, and my mind, knowing the truth of the matter laughs hysterically as it mocks my efforts and tells me that naps and diapers aren’t allowed in marathons!
Really though, it’s not that I am getting old, oh no, it’s just that I am not as young as I was fifty years ago.
You could say that I am not in bad shape for the shape I’m in, but then, who’s fooling who? When you reach my age usually, you are considered vintage, antique, or collectible.
Oh well, tomorrow is another day, and maybe somebody is going to come up with a napping marathon or a hobbling race. Who knows, I might win if they allow walkers.
Dear God, help me to grow old with grace and just a tad of dignity. I thank you for the adventures of a life well lived. Lord, please help me always to be able to laugh, and spread joy and abundant love. In Jesus' most wonderful name, I ask this, Amen.
