Smooth and pudgy are the fingers that hold the mirror. Age spots and wrinkles are sprinkled around the veins that pop out across the back of her hand. These hands that have cared for and loved many, these hands that were once strong are now filled with arthritic pains that strain their use. These hands are not what they once were, nor is the reflection shown in the mirror. Her face seems to have lost its color; at times it seems she has been sprinkled with flour. The cheeks which were once called bright and vibrant now droop below her jaw like the loose jowls of a bird dog. They seem to prove the law of gravity. She looks at the creases across her forehead, wondering how they so quickly multiplied. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes give her hope: they are a testimony to her times of joy. They are a testament to the time she gave for laughter and smiles. She then takes time to look into her eyes. They are still blue. They still sparkle. No longer are they framed with eye-shadow, mascara, or eye-liner, but they still communicate to the world around her. Their ability to function properly may have diminished, but their shine still remains; though now they tend to reveal length of days and occasional weariness.
A stray, white hair hangs in front of her face. She slowly raises the grandmotherly hand to brush it away. What color was her hair in her youth? That shade has long since vanished, but she is not saddened. She has hair that is white as the new fallen snow and it speaks of the years the Lord has given her to learn wisdom and patience. It speaks of her life as a vapor. It reminds her to look forward to that day when she will see her Lord face-to-face and be known as He knows her. It reminds her that though this life has brought fires to prove the quality of her faith, she will see Him and know Him and be known by Him and be made as He is. He will take away her pain.
She sets down the mirror and chuckles at the fat that swings on the back of her arm. Another proof of gravity; she never wanted it to come.
She sighs as she realizes she needs to call for someone to help her use the toilet and wash herself.
No, no, she will not give in to the temptation of frustration and discontent. She will wait patiently on the Lord. She will love Him and depend on Him – even to death He will be her guide. Even to death she will be His servant. Oh how she longs for that day! May she finish the race with perseverance! May He bring the end of her race quickly; come Lord Jesus.
I greatly love and admire old people. I long to be old. Those who are old will mock me. Those who are young will accuse me of lunacy. There was a time when I delighted in the idea of joining the Red Hat Society. There are times when I pray that I will be one who is able to make it to the days of white hairs. I don’t want to experience all that old age has to offer (I am almost certain that if I live to be in my eighties or beyond...I will probably have Alzheimer's or Dementia), but I want to belong in the “mature and aging” group. I am not opposed if “to be aged” is not in the Father’s will for my life, but I hope it is. I would like to be a testimony to Him to the young people around me.
I have already made myself a list of helpful things to remember:
--I MUST have young friends who will tell me when I stink. I will not be offended by their comments and then my visiting guests will not be repelled by my stench either.
--I also plan to have shoulder-length hair, wear large-brimmed hats, and bright, flower-print dresses.
--I would like to be a respected eccentric.
--I want to be the neighborhood grandma.
--I would love to tell stories to the children and smile at the young people and hold their faces in my wrinkled hands.
I just love old people. They have so much to teach us. They have so much from which we can learn – even if they have led horrid lives; they will teach us the consequences of wicked choices. How clear I see in elderly people’s attitudes the principle of, “what you sow you shall also reap.” I want to be a PATIENT and SELF-CONTROLED and CONTENT and KIND old person. I want to share Jesus with the others at my retirement center. I want to smile at the other ailing people and look forward to my soon-to-be-given-pain-free body!!! Oh, dreams…
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