I admit it. I sometimes envy the elderly. I realize they have passed their "prime" - that their bodies are waning in strength and beauty - but that reality is secondary to the sense of peace and rest that often emanates from them. I used to attribute it to fatigue, but I begin to believe it's more profound than that.
These Imagers of God have successfully negotiated the tempestuous waters of youth and have trod that treacherous path we call "Middle Age" and they have not only "escaped with their lives" they have often arrived at a place of contentment and trust which I find enviable.
I also realize that for most it hasn't come without a cost and they likely arrived there by way of stumblings and falls and losses...the very means which have shaped them into who they are.
I only hope my life follows that trajectory...that I can respond along my path with the submission and meekness and trust that will lead to a tranquil old age. As you might guess, my more natural bent would lead me to become the characteristic crotchety, cantankerous old woman. So...if my final years are otherwise, you can find in it irrefutable evidence for the existence of God and grace!
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