Although I am now only 54 years of age and can fully expect, if statistics are correct to be on this earth for at least another 25 years, I find myself thinking more about old age lately. Things just don't work like they used to. I will never be as fast as I used to be, indeed I will grow slower. My eyesight will continue to dim. My body will bit by bit, fail me in some way or another. But there is one thing, one thing, that can grow and become stronger as we age. We can increase in our knowledge of God, we can become wiser,and our faith can grow stronger. If we persevere.
My devotional reading today was Psalm 71, which is a Pslam of old age.
In You, O Lord, do I take refuge; let me never be put to shame!
In Your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline Your ear to me, and save me!
Be to me a rock of refuge,to which I may continually come;
You have given the command to save me,for You are my Rock and my Fortress.
Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked,from the grasp of the unjust and cruel man.
For You, O Lord, are my hope,my trust, O Lord, from my youth.
Upon You I have leaned from before my birth; You are He who took me from my mother's womb.
My praise is continually of You. I have been as a portent to many, but you are my strong refuge.
My rmouth is filled with Your praise, and with Your glory all the day.
Do not cast me off in the time of old age;forsake me not when my strength is spent.
For my enemies speak concerning me;those who twatch for my life consult together
and say, “God has forsaken him;pursue and seize him,for there is none to deliver him.”
O God, be not far from me; O my God, make haste to help me!
May my accusers be put to shame and consumed; with scorn and disgrace may they be covered
who seek my hurt.
But I will hope continually and will praise You yet more and more.
My mouth will tell of Your righteous acts, of Your deeds of salvation all the day,
for their number is past my knowledge.With the mighty deeds of the Lord God I will come;
I will remind them of Your righteousness, Yours alone. O God, from my youth you have taught me,
and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs,
O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim Your might to another generation, Your power to all those to come.
Your righteousness, O God, reaches the high heavens.You who have done great things,
O God, who is like You? You who have made me see many troubles and calamities
will revive me again;from the depths of the earth You will bring me up again.
You will increase my greatness and comfort me again. I will also praise You with lthe harp
for Your faithfulness, O my God; I will sing praises toy You with the lyre,
O Holy One of Israel. My lips will shout for joy,when I sing praises to you;
my soul also, which You have redeemed. And my tongue will talk of Your righteous help all the day long,
for they have been put to shame and disappointed who sought to do me hurt.
How then should we face the coming years, how do we grow old and in so doing honor God? My devotional reading today spoke of some the following;
Grow old gratefully. Without complaining. Count the blessings each day. Live with your eyes open to the beauty and wonder of life, do not let your sight be stifled by the ugliness of the sin you see around you. Do not give in to despair, but instead be the light that the world needs to see, to push back the darkness. Give thanks always. Keep working for Him, keep telling others of His grace, share the gospel, not just with your mouth, but with your hands, and your heart. And pray for a good death and a good dying.
This week in her blog post, Ann Voskamp shared a link to a post featuring people who are dying with grace and dignity. The honest truth of the matter is this; we are all dying.
"My goal is to know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death."
A section of the below poem was also in my devotional reading this morning. I have included here the full poem, it is beautifully written, and touches my soul, as I hope it will also touch yours.
It’s sundown, Lord.
The shadows of my life stretch back
into the dimness of the years long spent.
I fear not death, for that grim foe betrays himself at last, thrusting me forever into life:
Life with You, unsoiled and free.
I fear the Dark Spectre may come too soon – or do I mean, too late?
That I should end before I finish
That I should stain Your honor, shame Your name, grieve Your loving heart.
Few, they tell me, finish well . . .
Lord, let me get home before dark.
The darkness of a spirit grown mean and small, fruit shriveled on the vine,
bitter to the taste of my companions,
burden to be borne by those brave few who love me still.
No, Lord. Let the fruit grow lush and sweet, A joy to all who taste;
Spirit-sign of God at work,
stronger, fuller, brighter at the end.
Lord, let me get home before dark.
The darkness of tattered gifts,
rust-locked, half-spent or ill-spent,
A life that once was used of God
Grief for glories gone or
Fretting for a task God never gave.
Mourning in the hollow chambers of memory,
Gazing on the faded banners of victories long gone.
Cannot I run well unto the end?
Lord, let me get home before dark.
The outer me decays -
I do not fret or ask reprieve.
The ebbing strength but weans me from mother earth and grows me up for heaven.
I do not cling to shadows cast by immortality.
I do not patch the scaffold lent to build the real, eternal me.
I do not clutch about me my cocoon,
vainly struggling to hold hostage
a free spirit pressing to be born.
But will I reach the gate
in lingering pain, body distorted, grotesque?
wandering untethered among light
phantasies or grim terrors?
Of Your grace, Father, I humbly ask. . .
Let me get home before dark.”
(Poem by Robertson McQuilken)
