Time Flies on Wings. It won't wait for you

I've thought a lot recently about a poem I read back in high school. I'm fairly sure that Andrew Marvell's intentions were not--how does one put it?--all together honorable, toward "his Coy Mistress." Still four lines from the poem have stayed with me for half-a-century, now:    But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.  Events have conspired, of late, to make me acutely aware of times passage, and the eroded landscape it leaves behind. My little brother had a birthday. Two of the youngest senior citizens I know were just confronted with the reality of mortality. My younger grandson is now fourteen. Though you'd never know it by looking at my lovely wife, in a week and a day we celebrate our Forty-fifth Anniversary. Just this morning I talked to a friend considerably younger than me; we discussed his retirement. It was the second serious conversation I've had this week about age and mortality. I'm surrounded by people younger than me, not only the students at Pacific Islands University, but the staff. Some of them are younger than my sons.  As if that wasn't enough video footage of the winged chariot rolling, unhindered along. The subject matter this week, for the class I'm teaching was heaven. Finally, though I started the week with good intentions, here it is Fridayand I'm just now giving you something to think about. It's not nearly as poetic, but the following has some of the same sentiment and is more my style than the verse of the Cavalier Poet. "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in one pretty and well preserved piece, but to slide across the finish line broadside, thoroughly used up, worn out, leaking oil, and shouting GERONIMO!!!"    Whether you prefer the version from the literature book, or the doggerel from the Internet, there is something to be said for the sentiment. As a fellow preacher reminded us Don't waste your life. I could say more, but I think you've got it. Go live Life. Love Jesus. Like the great apostle "finish your race. It's STTA (Something To Think About).

The First Time, a second view:

Something to Think About First Times, the second time:

A bit of balance about first times. Two statements that stick in my mind: My pastor when I was growing up, who later became my Father-in-law, used to speak about folk still being "forked end down."  By that he meant they weren't dead yet. One of the hardest working people I ever knew, a business woman who was a charter member of the church I pastored, used to say, "You can't begin any sooner than right now." I put both of those together to make an "X," as in "X marks the spot."  If you are still forked end down then you still have opportunities.  You can mourn about all the chances to make a difference youmissed, or you can survey the ways you can move the needle in the right direction right now, and step up.  You'll never begin any sooner. Get busy. It’s STTA.

First your are old, and then you die.

Something To Think About When you get done being old you die :

My late father used to jokingly call cemeteries, "scull orchards," though he would, also, often slow down, out of respect, when he drove by one.  I think he was utterly sincere when he claimed to have no concern for how his body would be dealt with after his death.     His line was something like, "I don't care if you bury me head-down in a post hole and mark my name on my shoe heel"  In actuality he wasn't that nonchalant.  He purchased grave plots for himself and my mom.  My dad never really got old. He was only sixty-two when he died.  I've spent my life being a small town pastor.  I've hung around death a good bit.  I've seen folk die and leave the heirs with a real mess, and I've seen others proactively bless their families by the preparations they had made.  I'm not proposing irresponsibilty. My wife and I are entering into a time when we'll be traveling a lot.  We are no longer--as the saying goes--Spring Chickens (though you can't tell it when you look at Kathy).  We figure it is responsible to make some preparations.  We are getting our wills in order.  We're passing on some key information to our sons.  Our house may not be in order, but we are trying to cut down on the chaos.  We, however, refuse to focus on dying.  In fact we don't have to refuse; focusing on death isn't really a temptation; life is just too interesting. Growing old involves some accommodation.  A friend of mine is a good athlete.  He can't jump any more, but he is having a great time coaching those who can.  The deterioration and slow-down that comes with growing older is inevitable, but we don't have to cooperate with the trend.  Let's do what we can to preserve life's vigor for as long as possible. Part of living responsibly, especially at this end of life, includes preparing to die--indeed, I've said on other occasions that one is not really ready to live until he is ready to die.  That doesn't mean, however, that we need to focus on death.  The fact is we will die whether we plan to or not.  We will only really live if we go about it purposefully.  I'm a realist.  Fifty year Guarantees don't impress me much any more, but at this point it would appear that I have some space between here and my appointment with the grave.  I choose to focus on life. Bottom line: Be ready to die (see the link below) and then get on with living(likewise check out the link below), how old you are is irrelevant.   It's Something to Think About. Young or old we all need the Lord. Find out more here.

AGING, #3

Something To Think About Aging, yes, even more:

On a journey, especially one by air or across water, you reach what is called the "point of no return."  Except in science fiction movies, it's not quite as ominous as it sounds.  The point of no return is simply the half-way point of the trip.  Once you pass that point you might as well go on to your destination; it's closer than going back to the beginning.  I don't expect to live to one hundred and thirty, so it is clear that I passed that point some time ago.  The reality is we can't go back in time, but the picture helps me to put some things in perspective. Maybe it will help some of you, on whichever side of that imaginary point you find yourself. For those who can reasonably conclude that they are still on the outbound phase of life's journey, I hope these thoughts from one on the other side will cause you treasure the time the Lord gives you.  I've lived long enough, and observed enough people to see folk who wasted their prime opportunity only to spend the backside of their journey regretting it.  Both phases are wasted. I see a lot of oldsters, like me, who waste the life they have left, mourning the youth they no longer have.  We can't go back.  If we allow the past to rob us of the future we will have lost all that remains. Caleb was eighty-five when he asked Joshua to allot him one of the most difficult territories to claim (here).  The Apostle Paul determined to  "forget . . . what lies behind and reach . . . forward to what lies ahead, [he] press[ed] on toward the goal"  (Philippians 3:13–14).  Both modeled behavior that we folk on the far side of that no turn back point need to emulate.  I'm trying to remember it myself.  I have less life in front of me than I've lived behind me.  That makes what is left all the more precious.  With Moses I pray,    “. . . teach [me] to number [my] days, That [I] may present to You a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)    It's Something to Think About.   Young or old we all need the Lord. Find out more here.

Aging, again--Old folk tend to repeat themselves:

Something To Think About Aging, again--Old folk tend to repeat themselves:

I can give hearty affirmation to King David's observation,    “I have been young and now I am old, Yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken Or his descendants begging bread.” (Psalm 37:25, NASB95)    I have been well provided for, all of my life.  The warm memory of a great meal from last night still lingers.  I was refreshed by good night's sleep in a warm, comfortable bed, sheltered by a house that meets my needs.  For most of my days, my situation has never been very far from hand to mouth.  But that has been OK.  By God's grace I was gainfully employed, and through that means the needs of my family and myself, were met.  I am now moving into a realm where there is more room between payday and due-day.  My late uncle put it this way.  He told me a few years ago, "I don't work anymore; I just draw."  Here in the West, many of us who worked through our adult years, are able to draw a Social Security check, and maybe on a pension fund.  Even for those of us who need to supplement that income, the "have to" element is not nearly as great as back when the "baby needs new shoes, and transmission just went out on the Ford."  More and more I find myself thinking, in answer to the question, "What do you have to do today?" "Nothing.  I don't have to do anything."  But, I need to keep in mind there is a great deal I need to get done. I've learned a lot from watching my wife, over the years.  Kathy has been self-employed for most of our time together.  She is a very capable piano teacher.  For a time she also taught music to preschoolers.  Her business, however, has never been more than a part-time job.  Because of her Proverbs 31 management of our household, we have been able to live well, mostly on my income.  Kathy chose to be good for nothing.  She has led the music ministry in our church for decades, and has invested herself deeply in the lives of women and girls, through ministries like Coffee Break.  I'm trying to learn from her, and from the work the Holy Spirit is doing in my heart, that . . . though there may be nothing I have to do today, there is a great deal I need to get done. This is a challenge that John Piper has eloquently made in his book,Don't Waste Your Life.  Look at page 46--the link accesses a pdf of the whole book--for a tragic story of some folk who concluded that because they didn't have to do anything that they had nothing to do. Seniors, let's finish well. Lord, I'm thankful to be at a place where more and more there is nothing I have to do.  Help me see that there is much that I need to get done.  It's Something to Think About.   Young or old we all need the Lord. Find out more here.

Growing Old, and Learning from Those Who Are

Something To Think About Aging:

A while back a friend of mine, talking to me and another aging preacher, with suitable wit and sarcasm said, "I'm completely willing to admit that you are done."  It is a reality that's easier to see and declare in others than it is in one's self.  I'm a guy, have been all my life, so I speak with an element of bias.  We guys who gain a great deal of our self-worth from what we do struggle with turning loose of our careers.  Think about Big Jake and his irritation with the observation of folk who had only heard of him, "I thought you were dead."  A great deal of the appeal of the character was watching him prove his crusty reply, "Not hardly." A few years ago a wise counselor helped me understand someone.  A friend of ours was behaving in a difficult, obnoxious manner.  "Think about it," my friend counseled.  "This man has been in a position of influence all his life; he's just trying to hold on to that.  I'm working to conduct myself so my friend doesn't have to offer that explanation on my behalf.  I'm trying to maintain a modified Jacob McCandles stance.  I'm not dead, but I don't want to go around beating up people to prove it. You may be like Jake and me--you find yourself in a world populated by a bunch of youngsters who are taking over.  Or, you might be one of those kids trying to deal with one of those seasoned citizens.  A couple of thoughts: We oldsters may not be dead yet, but it is clear that we will be sooner than all these kids around us.  Clearly, we come to a point where good stewardship requires that we stop trying to hold onto power and focus on helping those who will still be here when we are dead to do their job better. When I'm gone I don't want those around me to say, "Now that he is gone we don't know what to do."  Rather I hope they will say, "Because he was here we know how to carry on." If you are one of those irritating, smarter, quicker, more capable kids, look around.  He may be a janitor, she is likely a secretary, maybe the person I speak of is your boss or grandparent.  There is likely someone in your circle who is marked with the hard-won scars of life.  Buy them a cup of coffee.  Sit down and listen.  You'll have to put up with some "When I was a kid . . ." stories.  You need to look at pictures of their grandkids, and don't make fun of them if the photos are actual prints. Maybe you thought this person was dead.  Give them a chance to prove the truth--"Not hardly!"  It's Something to Think About.   Young or old we all need the Lord. Find out more here.

This life is one transition after another.

Something To Think About, Transitions:

My wife and I are working through a transition from our "working years" to our next opportunity.  If you are interested you can read about it here.  Friends and loved ones have spoken encouragement into our lives.  Some express a bit of wonder that folk at "our age" would be seeking what is next, rather than resting on what is past.  There is nothing remarkable about asking, "How can I use what I have to God's glory?"  It's just what we ought to do. The reality is, whether we realize it or not, we are all in transition.  My two lovely granddaughters, above, have entered a year of change.  It's Kendal's first year in a new school and Carrington's last year of High school.  A good friend of mine is forty years younger than me.  He is negotiating a passage from here to there that looks remarkably like mine.  His dad is fifteen years younger than me, and just about everything in his life has changed in the past few years.  Then there is another friend:  Whether it is now or down the line, he is looking at that ultimate transition.  We are all headed there.  As the old song says, "This world is not my home.  I'm just a passin' through."   I just received this picture of my youngest grandchild.  She's not three yet.  She watched her big sisters get ready for, and head off to, school.  She's thoroughly convinced she is a big as they are so she got on her new school clothes to head off to her "school"--day-care class.  After that nothing is the same. Not really. There are some realities that are unchanging. Forty-five years ago, though I was on crutches at the time, I climbed a hill and took a seat on a log where I had an unimpeded view to the west.  I was going through a particularly difficult passage in my life.  I took great comfort in watching the sun set.  God had kept the sun and earth, and all the other planets and stars in working order since the day He created them.   From little girls with new shoes, they can't tie yet, heading off to "school," to the old and grizzled on the threshold of eternity, life is a series of transitions.  If I'm with my little granddaughter when she is going through a particularly rough transition--and her life is filled withfirsts-- I'll hold her hand or even pick her up and carry her.  The reality for those of us who have an ongoing relationship with the Lord is that He has promised to be with us through all of life. Hold onto that. It's STTA.   On this page there are multiple options.  All of them point to how we can have an ongoing relationship with our Lord.

Replacement Parts I Won't Need Any More

Something To Think About, Scrap Metal I'll Leave Behind:

My Siblings and I are accumulating quite an array of new parts.  My little brother is having a new hip installed this morning.  Among the four of us we have a couple of bionic knees--with at least one more highly likely--a bunch of screws, some parts for thumbs, and some pieces that look a lot like strips of plumbers strap to me.   I'm thankful.  My mind goes back to my childhood when one of the chores of being on vacation was going to see some of my older relatives.  Several of them were bed-fast with broken hips, others walked with great difficulty.  I figure I'd be there were it not for the wonders of modern medicine.   I pray that my brother does as well with his hip as I have with my knee. The fact is, though, that we Merrells will be done with these various high-dollar after-market parts in just a short time.  We have children and grandkids in need of college tuition, not to mention shoes and backpacks.  Maybe someone would be interested in investing in Merrell spare parts futures.  I'm thinking you could pay us now, for the privilege of selling all this scrap metal later.  Just make sure you have a big truck before you bid.  Obviously, we won't deliver. My wife doesn't even know I'm writing this, yet somehow I can hear her yelling, "No!"  So don't bother to send your bids.  Instead let me give you a tip.  Everything about this life is temporary.  It won't last.  With poetic beauty James reminds us, "[Y]ou do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away."  (James 4:14)  It is likely that my titanium will go to the grave with me.  If the Lord takes me without sending me to the undertaker, He'll deal with the scrap metal and plastic as He sees fit.  Vaporize?  Let it hit the ground where I used to walk?  I don't know.  I just know I won't need those parts anymore. When you see a gray haired guy with a long scar on his knee or an athletic lady with her arm in a sling, recovering from shoulder surgery, be reminded that just like those bones and sinews wore out, so is everything else in this world.  If my life consists only of what is down here, I am sure to be disappointed. If you need a new part, or need an old one fixed, go get it taken care of.  But know that all that is part of this world is passing away  (here, here, & here), so make sure you prepare what lies beyond. There is more! It's STTA. You can find out about that which is eternal on this page.

On my anniversary, I'm thankful for that which is dependable.

Something To Think About, That which is solid:

My life has been remarkably stable--"boring," some would say.  I was privileged to serve as pastor of Covington Bible Church for all of my career.  I live in the same house where my bride and I settled some forty-two years ago.  On one side I've even had the same neighbors all that time.  As is inevitable, down here on this earth, though, change has accelerated, recently.  My job has changed.  I signed up for medicare.  I have a new knee.  The gradual changes that come with hanging around for sixty-five years have accumulated to the point that they can't be ignored.  More and more I find myself thinking of a loved-one or friend and remind myself that they are no longer with us.   Granted the scientists who did the study neglected to considersome information from outside the system, but, still, the observation they made is accurate.  If left to itself the world is running down (here).  Don't go out and buy extra blankets though, at the present rate of decline the lights will stay on for a long time.  Still the study is a macro illustration of what I observe in the micro of my life.  Change is inevitable.  Left to itself this momentum of mutation is not taking us in a positive direction. Warning: hard turn here, but I'm still on course: This morning while my lovely wife was out walking, I fixed breakfast.  When she returned we enjoyed the meal together.  We've been sharing breakfasts and life for forty-three years.  Next to my relationship with the Lord being married to Kathy is one of few steady states in my life.  As the pace of change surges I find it more important than ever to hold on to that which is reliable. I look around in my world and see that folk are abandoning what is secure.  They plant their feet firmly on a board that is surfing the latest big wave.  Just over the horizon is a tsunami ready to consume the current breaker as if it were but the ripple from a stone tossed into the surf.  As I see change in me and in my world, I am wonderfully thankful that there is that which doesn't change.  I'm grateful to my Lord, but today I say, "Thank you, Kathy.  Your love has been solid in the midst of the shifting reality of life." For the rest of you . . . It's STTA. You can find out more about the one completely solid relationship here.