Am I old?

Am I old?

I don’t feel old, not really. But have I grown old?

As I write this, I’m in my late 50’s. That fact alone may answer the question, for some. I have more health issues than I used to, that’s true. I find I look at some things in terms of the value of what I receive versus the energy I have to expend to receive it. Some may tell me that this answers my question as well.

But here’s the thing: I don’t feel ‘old’. I feel as though I’ve experienced a fair bit of life, and that’s a different feeling. I feel like I’ve learned a few things, about living life, about what’s important and what’s not, about how to let go of things that earlier in my life I refused to. And that’s what makes me ask the question. Am I old, or have I just begun to understand the long view of life?

If I’m honest -and I am, or try to be, always- I have to admit that there are times when my energy for a given day becomes exhausted, and that didn’t used to happen. Maybe once a month, I’ll find myself dozing off for thirty minutes or an hour in the evening, and that didn’t used to happen, either. So it seems clear that the boundless energy reserves of my youth are ebbing, and that’s probably a sign of the lengthening stream of years which have passed beneath the bridge. I can’t deny that truth. Does that make me old?

I understand now that hate and envy are blinders, which keep me focused on the wrong parts of life. I understand that rage burns me, not the other person. I understand that for all my filth and sin, Almighty God still wants me in His heaven. That makes me feel young, and valued, and loved. I understand that things are going to get worse, because God says in His Word that they will. So I don’t worry as much about the way my American society seems to be crumbling around me. I carried that burden throughout much of my life; I don’t feel it nearly as much anymore. My understanding of the things around me, of the way in which life unfolds, has grown, and continues to grow.

So perhaps the answer depends on how I choose to define “old”. By many standards of my little world, by the larger society around me…I am, in fact, old. Shall I choose to let that define me? To some extent, that’s not up to me. I am at the mercy of those with power, with authority over me. But to the extent I have the ability to define myself, I think I will continue to choose to see most of my life as not old. I say ‘most of my life’, because I don’t mind not helping friends move to a new home anymore, or not changing my own oil, or not being expected to run anywhere. I’m not opposed to taking occasional advantage of some of the benefits of having seen as much of life as I have. I miss hiking, which I did a little of during the misspent days of my youth, and just wandering in the woods. (A friend of mine is a stringer, a person who takes photographs, typically of local high school sporting events, or car accidents, or fires, and sells them to newspapers or websites. He laughingly commented, “Years ago I’d steal a glance or take a quick photo of the cheerleaders. Then nobody thought anything of it, but now I’m ‘Creepy Old Guy’!”) It’s interesting, and sometimes depressing, how merely the passage of years has affected how I’m perceived. I’m still the same guy, more or less. But the way others view me is different than in the days when I was twenty-five.

I choose to view myself as experienced. Older in years, yes, but perhaps a better consumer of the years that are to come. Hopefully a little wiser, as a result of the days I’ve already lived. A little slower on the video game trigger, but smarter about how to battle the bosses. A better person because of what my Lord has taught me, and maybe less concerned about the things that happen along the way, because I know He is control. I know where my final destination is, and I know I’ll be welcomed with loving arms when I get there. And that’s something to look forward to.