Monday, August 30, 2010

Middle Age Musings

Something very momentous happened this year.  I hit 50.  I’m not sure why they call it ‘hitting 50’, because it implies you are able to move fast enough to strike something with impact.  Possibly it is more the image of running into something that doesn’t move, and sort of just knocks you back on your somewhat less than firm rear-end.  Whatever the case, it happened.  And I was forced into admitting something I’ve more or less been in denial of:  I’m middle-aged.  I know, I know.  All but a very slim percentage of you are saying, “No kidding!  You had trouble admitting that!”  That small percentage are saying, “Don’t say it out loud!!”  It’s just that the term is so, well, for lack of anything more scholarly, BLAH.  Middle-age.  It sounds bland, boring, mediocre, worn out. Not young and vibrant, but not worthy of the respect that being elderly gets you.  But enough about the word itself, how about the situation?  

I finally realized that I am indeed halfway there.  I was forced to admit that even if I lived to the incredible age of 100, I was halfway through my life.  Halfway to dead.  That means that I am now officially on the downward slope.  The backside.  And here’s the kicker:  there was no day when someone woke me and said, “Hey Kerri!  You may want to get up and enjoy this day.  For today is the best day of your life.  From here on out, everything gets worse.  It doesn’t get any better than this.  You will never look better, feel better, or be sharper mentally.  You are at your peak.  Go out there and make the most of it.”  Nope, I did not know I was living my peak day.  I was oblivious.  I missed it.  I did not capitalize upon it, I did not take extra pictures, I did not take advantage of it in any way at all.  Had I known, well truthfully, I probably would have been depressed thinking, “You mean this is as good as I will ever be?  Well, rats. I expected better.”  How old was I?  I have no earthly idea.  When did the decline begin?  Couldn‘t tell you.  But it did start.  I have been slowly falling apart for some time now.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I try to not live my age.  One day when I was playing tennis, the woman I was on the court with let a ball go by, as it was out of her reach.  I looked at her, and she said sheepishly, “I would have had that in my younger days.”  I said to her, “Hey, in 10 years, today will be one of our younger days!  Let’s keep going after those balls while we still can!”  And I do…I will keep doing all I can while I can.  Other people my age have way more health issues than I have, and I feel blessed.  I have some complaints, sure, but they could be a whole lot worse.  But there is no denying that time is not kind to our bodies, or our minds.  Mostly our bodies.  That is why in this country we women, in particular, spend multi-millions, if not billions, of dollars on products designed to slow-down the aging process, or at lease disguise the effects of it. Skin care and cosmetics for our faces take our time and money. We have medicine cabinets full of drugs, both prescription and over the counter, curatives from health food stores and libraries full of recommendations from the experts to alleviate the aches and pains that aging causes to our muscles, bones and joints.  But let’s face it:  it is a losing battle.  We are NOT getting any better.  And although I disdain all the botox, plastic surgery, lifts, tucks and constant readjusting of one’s features to try to beat the ravages of time, I am pleased to announce that at the age of 50, I am having some work done.  The most effective work possible.

Pick your jaw up, close your mouth and open your Bible.  My life verse is Philippians 1:6  “  Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

That’s what I get excited about.  That’s what makes me smile, what gives me true joy.  I am confident, I am convinced, I am positive, I am sure, that God began to work in me when He saved me.  It is a good work, a positive work, a work with His own hands, for His purpose, for His glory.  This work that He is doing, it will not stop, He will perfect it, He will continue it, He will constantly be improving upon it up until the moment that I am reunited with Jesus Christ.  So while my outer shell may deteriorate, the body may grow weaker and less desirable and usable, God is working on my inner being to make me more like His Son.  As God works in me, my spirit becomes more beautiful, stronger, more like He intended me to be.  He will never, ever give up on me, never, ever set me aside as a project He grew weary of, bored of, or tired of.  In His eyes, I am not hopeless or useless.  I am His workmanship.  Sure, I make the task difficult at times, but He is patient and loving, and He has my whole life to work His work in me.

So my knees pop and my hips hurt.  My eyes don’t see as well and my hair is graying.  Soon my hearing will be affected, and I hear from some that even our taste buds are affected eventually.  Our memories aren’t as sharp and our energy declines.  But God is doing a work in me that transcends and exceeds what is happening on the outside.  Someone said, and I wish it had been me, ‘We live life as if we were human beings having a spiritual experience.  Rather we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”  This human experience is short, the spiritual experience is for eternity.  When we realize this, then we can focus not on what is happening on the outside, but on what God is doing on the inside, preparing us for eternity with Him.

1 comment:

  1. Excellent post! You are a very gifted writer. Please keep it up. I'm enjoying it! :)

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