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So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. –– 2 Corinthians 4:16
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.
–– Ecclesiastes 3:1
The soundtrack of the nursing home is changing. When I began this gig called ministry, the elevator Muzak wafting through the hallways and providing the white noise background in the dining room would invariably be some lush string arrangement by Montovani or maybe the dulcet notes of a Burt Bacharach piano arrangement. Perhaps you’d hear the rerun of The Lawrence Welk Show emanating from a room or two as you walked down the hallway. Today, however, we are entering the time when the preferred soundtrack of the residents will be more in the vein of Lynard Skynard and The Who. After all, Mick Jagger, though still performing, is an octogenarian, and Jimmy Buffett wasn’t exactly a spring chicken. The soundtrack is shifting suspiciously close to the music of my youth, and I have to confess that I was in college when The Who premiered their music video for Eminence Front (“…it’s a put on”). Brace yourself, it won’t be long before the activities director at Sunset Acres is scheduling a Taylor Swift impersonator for entertainment following the Tuesday Bingo game.
Eventually, everyone must admit the truth found in the cliche –– We’re not getting any younger. The writer of Ecclesiastes was not being fatalistic when he confessed that there is a time to break down, and the fact that life is the prime example of planned obsolescence is not bad news. Life is precious, yet it is also finite on this earth, and there is a grace and goodness in that finitude if we are open to it. As James Taylor, a fellow senior discount honoree, put it long ago, The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time –– Any fool can do it –– There ain't nothing to it –– Nobody knows how we got to the top of the hill –– But since we're on our way down –– We might as well enjoy the ride.
Recently, I was lumbering along on my morning run when I heard a telltale padding of feet and rhythmic breathing, informing me that I was about to be passed, and I could only chuckle, because I was once that younger runner taking pride in flying by the older guy. Yes, the outer nature is wasting away. I cannot begin to go as hard and fast as I used to, and that truth probably applies to most things I attempt. There is no reason to resent this reality. Isn’t it enough for us to celebrate those things we were once able to do, while at the same time being grateful for the joys still to be encountered? I may groan a bit more when I bend to sit on the floor, but can I not also find the humor in the discovery of another talent that’s gone MIA, and celebrate how much fun I’ve had in the journey thus far? To a certain degree, those groans may be signs of a life well-lived. Yes, there is a season for everything. Thanks be to God. We might as well enjoy the ride.
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