72

This time tomorrow, Lord willing, I shall have completed by second year of grace--72. Last night I was remembering the "good old days." The older you grow the more life is composed of memories. I was reminiscing about my childhood. Cousins living right up the street, one grandmother living right behind our house, the other living just on the other side of town across from the old high school. A neighborhood cluttered with friends. Church a five minute walk--at most--up the street. Going faithfully Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings, and Wednesday prayer service. Not much of that "goes on" anymore. Everyone knew everyone else--the good, the bad, and the crazy. Community they called it. Home. Don't have much of that anymore either. You just lived day by day--and what a marvelous living it was. Ah, the "good old days"--in my memory older and gooder than they've ever been before.
I was also reflecting on the latest blessings God has given me. A little over a decade ago, He gave me The Acres. Perfect gift at the perfect time. A place on earth for me to pursue my love of His Creation, all its beauty, all its weeds and thistles, all its solitude and serenity. A place where work is my pleasure and my joy. Even the "drudgery." A gracious gift not the least bit earned.
And, of course, I rejoice at the gift He gave me to--in my own aging--honor Mom and Pop. Mom, by sharing the beauty of The Acres with her on her last steps of her journey. Delightful time--she made an excellent "consultant" for beautifying The Acres. And she embraced each day. And Pop by doing the one thing I'm sure he would have wanted me to do--"take care of your mother, son." I did my best, Pop. Another unmerited favor granted me by my Savior.
He had a third gift for me as well. He sent me back into His "work." It is not a sending I would have chosen for myself. Living quietly, unknown and unfindable in the wilderness of The Acres would have been fine with me. But it was not to be. His calling was simple: "You're breathing, right? Your brain still works at least a little bit, right? You love teenagers, right? Back you go young man." (I mean, compared to eternity, what's 72?) This, too, was a "splendiferous" gift. And I must confess. My primary goal is not to prepare "my kids" for college. (Though I hope I do that, too.) My ultimate purpose is not to make them better students, but to mold them into better devoted followers of their Lord and Savior--no matter what. So the things we read--and we read a lot--and the things we write about are designed to show them the world in which they live, the thought processes of the men and women in that world, and to urge them to love that world as He loves it--to take Jesus with them when they are sent out into the world.
I am accepting birthday presents: Daily prayers that Christ might use me to show them what His love and grace looks like and to convince them to live for Him in the world as He lived in it--to live lives full of grace and truth. Yes, I know, that's impossible--unless you pray. I cannot express to you how deeply I covet those "birthday gifts" day by day.
Seventy-two. Who would of thunk it? I do long to see His face--more than anything. (Though when He's ready, I pray He waits to mid-June so the irises will have bloomed one more time.) Yet, until that day, I also long to be used by Him to declare His beauty and faithfulness to the next generation. "May the beauty of Jesus be seen in me." Even at the "ripe" old age of 72