Maybe it’s because my favorite farmer turned 40 this month.
Maybe it’s because I’m about to.
A birthday cake to Scott from my Mom. 🙂
Who knows why exactly, but lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about getting older. Not in an obsessive, I’m-going-to-get-more-gray-hair-and-wrinkles way. And not in an I’m-going-to-die-and-I’m-freaking-out way.
I used to be scared of the wrinkles; and I used to be frightened by the dying.
Let’s just lay it out there: We’re all terminal. These days, the death rate on Earth is at 100 percent. Each day past, is one more closer to the exit.
The fact that we’re getting older can paralyze us, or it can set our hearts free to live fuller days.
Not fuller calendars, but fulfilled moments.
Not fuller houses, but fulfilled hearts.
Not fuller bank accounts, but fulfilled living.
I think I’m going to eat more cake,
and spit more watermelons seeds.
I’m going to wear the age I am,
but refuse to act my age.
I’m going to jump on the trampoline,
and get caught with chocolate frosting on my chin.
Perhaps I’ll climb a tree, and if I make it back down,
maybe I’ll run another half-marathon someday?
And when I look in the mirror,
I’m going to see the lines on my face as
nothing more than love-etched years.
And God-willing, for many years to come,
I’m going to find a spot to rest my ever-aging head
beside my favorite farmer.
“Remember you are a part of a great procession
which is always moving by;
others come and go before your own eyes,
you see them,
and they disappear,
and you yourself are moving onward
to another and more real world.”
— Charles Spurgeon
I have come that they may have life,
and have it to the full.
— John 10:10 (the birthday boy’s favorite verse)