The Job of Old Age
The large picture window admits an abundance of cheerful sunlight while it gazes down upon a beautifully manicured courtyard. Colorful plants border tables adorned with bright blue umbrellas. A light breeze animates the tree tops like a wiggly toddler holding up arms to be held. But the smell shatters the idyllic illusion. That slightly antiseptic, sterile odor screams hospital. And it doesn't lie.
She has arrived at the place that relentlessly pursues us all. Grandmommie is old.
My grandmother is in the bed. She fell again. This time she broke her wrist. Grandmommie is ninety, frail, and often confused. Dementia slithers and snatches at her memory. She also remains witty and hospitable. She enjoys a good laugh and a good glass of tea. She is all the things I remember and adore with a body and a mind now weary and struggling to cooperate. She has arrived at the place that relentlessly pursues us all. Grandmommie is old.
Even to your old age I will be the same,
I'm fifty-two. I know what it is to have a body that feels a little stiffer. Some things hurt for no good reason. I'm less flexible and more easily injured. But for the most part I can still do what I’ve always done. I can lift and move and bend at will. Grandmommie no longer enjoys those freedoms.
And even to your graying years I will bear you!
There is nothing graceful about growing old. After a life of independence, we become progressively more limited. We see less, hear less, even taste less (as evidenced by the amount of salt and sugar my granddad adds to his food and beverages). We lose the ability to drive or even walk. And all that happens when we are in "good" health. Medical issues can add infinitely more to the difficulty of the equation.
I don't like this reality. But if Jesus doesn't come back and I don't die young(ish), I will be in the same place one day. I will be the one old and desperate for help. And I won't like it. But Jesus will be there. "Even to your old age I will be the same, And even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; And I will bear you and I will deliver you" (Isaiah 46:4 NASB). He delivered me from my mother's womb and He will deliver me in and through the final stage of my life. He will provide. He will give grace and contentment.
May our latter end witness to the next generation the praise of His glory.
And I will still have purpose. "And even when I am old and gray, O God, do not forsake me, Until I declare Your strength to this generation, Your power to all who are to come" (Psalm 71:18). When my strength is waning and my accomplishments are few, I have the holy job of speaking and displaying God's strength and God's glory to those who come behind. I can still embody the faithfulness of the One who never leaves us nor forsakes us. Therefore, I have hope.
May we declare His strength no matter our weakness. May our latter end witness to the next generation the praise of His glory. It’s the job of old age.
