Isn’t it funny how important it is for a four-year-old to add the extra half to the age? When this little four-and-a-half-year-old was three she was so excited about turning four because then she would start going to school.
This is her first school picture.
I look at her and she reminds me of someone who once upon a time was so proud of BECOMING 21,
- then she TURNED 30,
- following she was PUSHING 40,
- all of a sudden she REACHED 50,
- and one day MADE IT to 60…
By now I’ve built up so much speed, before I know it I’ll HIT 70!
Time flies if you’re having fun, they say. It flies whether you’re having fun or not!
One thing in the flight of time I cannot understand. Here is something that came to my mailbox some weeks ago.
This hit me like a slash hammer. This girl, who by now would have pushed past 40, was invited to a dinner to discuss her investments! She’s got her investments all settled! She’s at a place where no one one can hurt her. She doesn’t have to worry about taxes, retirement, investments… like the President and Governor Mitt Romney were debating about tonight. She’s walking on streets of gold!
She’s been gone for ten years! It was eery to receive that envelope. When is she going to be cleared from all the mailing lists? Every time I receive mail in her name it stirs up memories. I miss her enough without being reminded by mailings!
Back to the funny thing about age. The backdrop is the sunset seen from the balcony of a place I have retired to this week to have some “alone-time”! I don’t need to go anyplace to have that kind of time. I constantly have alone-time. But this is a place where they come around with some fresh cookies every evening.
And it doesn’t end there… You then get into your 80’s and into the 90’s. Then you start going backwards: like my Dad that was JUST 92.
I heard someone say that after that a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become a little kid again: I’m 100 and a half!! My Dad is shooting for 100!
Now, back to the girl at the top. Do you blame me for being proud of her? The other day she felt compassion for her mother and told her on their way to school that if she missed her too much during the day then Sarah could stay home and keep her company. As tempting as that offer was her mother knows that her little one enjoys school.
Tomorrow is another day. The sun will rise. God’s compassions will be new. His faithfulness will be the same. Because of God’s love I’m not consumed. When I hit seventy I’ll be just as happy and excited as my precious Sarah was when she turned four. Every age has it’s charm.
I just hope that when they put me in the ground my family won’t be bombarded with mail.
Where are you on the scale? Are you turning, pushing, reaching, making it, or hitting it?
Our best comfort is to know:
My times are in God’s hands.
(See Psalm 31:15)