Those days of bounding and leaping are over. Now I creak and groan like an old Chevy. The lines around my eyes deepen (I convince myself it’s from all that laughing) while I STILL get acne! WHAT IS THAT ALL ABOUT? Zits AND wrinkles? Come on!
My metabolism, formerly known as Zippy the Wonder Burner, is now affectionately called Ralph the Lounge Lizard. I can eat seven almonds and they’ll morph into extra hips. Whatever!
My feet are longer. At least there’s that. I can win long feet contests if I have to.
And I can still run a few miles, huffing, yes, but getting somewhere nonetheless. In that arena, I have more endurance than any of my nubile children. So there’s that.
And the cool thing: my soul feels wiser. I’m less panicky (though when I’m lost, I still completely freak out). I rest more. I have a deeper longing for prayer, particularly when I have the privilege to pray for someone else.
And as the sun shines through my office window, highlighting my age, I still smile, creasing my eye lines all the more, because, really, the truth is: Jesus is so good. He’s just so good. And I’ll spend a lifetime feasting on that. And a lifetime more.