See that girl in the picture above this post. In my inner heart, that’s me. At that age my hair hung below my waist and blew in the wind. I’m still that girl inside. Even though I’m fifty-six and have a disease that’s aging my insides really quickly, I’m still that girl. It’s just, I wasn’t going to be old, you see.
As a young woman, it seemed impossible that “old people” had ever been young, felt exactly as I did, acted like we all did when we were young, or even fell in love. Surely, when they were young they had also felt as if they’d never be old, but I couldn’t imagine that. Seeing their pictures as young people was illuminating but almost couldn’t be grasped. How could that gorgeous young woman staring out of the sepia photo be the great-grandmother who was now wrinkled and bedridden?
Simon Evans via Compfight
Of course, as I grew into adulthood, the evidence occurred before my very eyes. My youthful parents slowly aged. First my great-grandparents and then my grandparents all grew older and eventually went to be with the Lord. I watched their decline. I was a witness. So, I knew that aging was outside their control and that it slowly but surely took them away.
Now that I’m in my fifties, weird things have begun to happen. After coasting along without seeing much change through my thirties and forties, it is here. Most of it is unexpected.
I have six children. This month our fourth child turned thirty. THIRTY! The balance has been tipped. Four of our six kids are now in their thirties, with the oldest creeping up on forty. A page has been turned. Thirty-year-olds are mature adults, and our children certainly are. So are the twentysomethings, but thirty is a landmark.
I remember being startled when my mother-in-law felt old when her oldest turned forty. At that time, my oldest child was sixteen, and I was expecting number six. It seemed ludicrous that any of my children would be forty. Impossible! But here it is. I’m at the same spot. The oldest arrives at forty in a bare eighteen months.
My mother-in-law had seemed to be an “old lady” at that point. So then, must I be. The evidence accumulates.
The word “arthritis” has been mentioned. A doctor dropped the word into a conversation with the word “only” in front of it. What! This excruciating pain in all my joints, this twisting of my fingers, this shooting agony. This is “only” arthritis?
The maybe thirty-year-old doctor seemed puzzled that I wouldn’t know what it was. But how would I? I’d never before felt such a thing. If you’re young, do you know what arthritis feels like? See. Neither did I. And neither did he, or he wouldn’t have said “only arthritis.”
Mister G.C. via Compfight
More evidence. My autoimmune disease is bringing all of these symptoms at a younger age than I expected. I don’t know yet if that chops time off at the end. Only God knows, and I still have many more tests to undergo before we can even begin treating the underlying disease.
My echocardiogram now shows types of cardiac aging that occur in elderly people, but which are very common with people who have Scleroderma, regardless of age. My mother, who is seventy-five, recently told me that my heart now looks exactly like hers – three leaky valves, an enlarged and hardening atria on the left side.
Good Lord! I thought.
I mean: Really, Lord. You are good. And, being good, this is what You’re allowing to happen to me. This is what is for my good. You’ve formed me since I was in the womb. I trust You. But have You cut off twenty years? My time is in Your hands, and You can do as you wish. You know best. But, twenty years, really? Could it be!
Suddenly those four children in their thirties, with one closing in on forty, and the two responsible and mature twentysomethings seem to be even more of a treasure than ever. I am truly blessed. They will all be fine. Even if their mother doesn’t live to be a truly old lady.
But remember this. I may have a heart like an old lady, but I’m young at heart. Just like you.
P.S. After posting this for today, my husband returned from a time of great encouragement with others involved in ministry in India – http://www.rimi.org. We decided together that we’ll plan a trip together to India for our fortieth anniversary next year. Now is the time! He’s gone numerous times, but I haven’t been able to go yet. If I need to be carried around by a bicycle rickshaw, I will be. Investing my days for Jesus, because I AM young at heart and in love with Him!
Love this!
If I die there, I told him to just bury me in India. 🙂
Commenting because it is an awesome observation of how aging and health issues steal what time we thought we had plenty of. The illusion when we are young that we will never be old or sick hits reality. But are they really stolen years if all our days were known by the One who knows all of them before one came to be? Are we getting the very amount He always intended and all those days entail? Embracing His goodness means embracing even this ugly awareness of age and sickness so that we can look the most like Him we can before we are face to face with Him and the journey is complete.
I love your authenticity, your vulnerability, and your honesty – all while you embrace this as God’s way for you. You are an encouragement to me that aging and sickness do not have to sideline us if our focus is on Christ, with our eyes fixed on heaven as He uses us to His glory until our dying breath here on earth. <3
I replied to you, but accidentally posted it as the comment below.
Thank you for this comment, Kristin! ❤️?
Great insight about our time! I thought I had about seventy-five years, even though Jesus had nudged me a few times earlier in my life about the number of my days being in HIS control, not mine. Of course, I didn’t listen. Maybe I’m being overly emotional, I said. So I planned for seventy-five. But HIS plan may not be seventy-five. It may be sixty or more or less. Like He whispered to me once: My responsibility is to use my gifts for Him, and His responsibility is the outcome. I’ll keep using my gifts, wisely managing my strength and resources to be able to expend them on my husband, my family, God’s Word, His church, the women in prison, and our investment in any place in the world that He takes us. If I perish, I perish. I said this to Tim last night as we planned the trip together, and he laughed. 🙂
As you might guess, I looked at the very visible blood vessels in my Grandma’s Pink’s hands thought how very old they looked, identical to mine today! When I have made statements to the affect that I am still the same person inside that I always was, some would say “I would hope you have grown and matured some,” which was not the point I was making! We are in our inner person, the person God made us to be! And behind my wrinkles and bulges, it is still me in there!
I love your attitude! Our days were numbered by God before one of them came to be! And when God is ready for us, we cannot stay one moment longer! We will fly to Jesus with great joy!!
I love you and am rejoicing at the trip you are planning to India!
Of course, the fortieth anniversary came and went. I was sicker than ever, and Tim said that he is never taking me to India because it would be too hard on my body. I know he’s right. I’ll maybe get to see India from heaven.