I Forgot

On the Way to Growing Old . . I Forgot.

I really believe that is what I did, forgot. I forgot that I was getting old and that time was moving rapidly. Now recently events have occurred that have caught my attention and my memory is once again working. For example when I was 56, it was a very good year, that was 1994, go figure if you wish to know how old I am,

I retired after pastoring most of my adult life and took off to Belize. I spent almost half of a year there in mission work with our International Mission Board, went to the Congo, Zaire and Rwanda, they were having a civil war and the greatest event, got married. That’s right; got married, like a newly graduating college student I started a very new life. Wow!

Having preached a lifetime I started a new career as vice president of the Tennessee Baptist Children’s Home. 1994 was a wonderful year, I think I believed I would live forever; I would love to have a hundred more 1994’s. But recent events have put life in a bit of a clearer picture. Maybe part of it started with the death of my sister Alice a few years ago but it really hit me when my pal, Louie died. Now I have buried other pets and even Louie’s father, but Louie, Louie I had watched grow old. When we were at the children’s home, he chased and caught a skunk twice in one run. He did battle with a deer that had the foolishness of invading his yard and when I would go downstairs he would rush down to be with me and then beat me back up the steps.

But over the last several months of his life I noticed he was content with remaining at the top of the stairs and waiting for me to come back up. He didn’t chase any more cats, some mornings I even beat him out of bed. So I saw it, growing old.

His eyes looked at me with a longing to run, to do the chase, but his body would not allow him and thus he now rest under the hillside where he use to sit and stare off into the far off place. Since you have had time to do the math you now know that I am as Mildred, one of my church members, tells me in the dying age.

Like Louie the stairs are less frequent and the stare into the far off place is more present. I don’t worry about health except that I may live longer than my health, and my second worry is very much like it that I will live longer than my money.

God has given me a wonderful place in which to grow old, my church allows me to sit when I like as I preach, they seem to listen, and my heart tells me that they love me.

With a family of love and a church family of love who knows I may live longer than I am worthy, but no matter the case I am grateful for each dawn and for each hello as I move through our lovely community. Good morning fellow travelers shall we grow old together?


Published in: on October 12, 2015 at 11:07 pm  Leave a Comment  

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