I confess I have been dwelling in a time of sadness for too
long. I am 64 years old, the age Paul
McCartney wrote about pondering his relevance in old age asking his loved one “will you still need me, will you still feed
me when I'm sixty-four?” By the way
Paul McCartney wrote that song as a young teenager. At that young age 64 indeed seemed
ancient. Paul McCartney is ten years
older than me. Now at age 74, and still
preforming, he is obviously still feeling quite needed and feeding himself rather
well a decade past the age that he, as a young teenager, thought would be
clearly past the age of being relevant.
Ah the way our perspective changes with maturity. When I was a young teenager with far less
musical talent that Paul McCartney I could not dreamed I would have the life I
can look back on now at age 64.
I have had a truly wonderful life that has been far beyond
anything the shy little boy from Columbus, MS could have ever imagined. Even at the ripe old age of 64, I am actually
in pretty good shape for the shape I’m in.
I have been blessed with an incredible family. I have a wife who loves me more than her own
life. My children have grown to be
wonderful independent and successful women.
At 64 I still feel needed (especially when my technology challenged wife
is trying to do something on the computer) and I do a more than adequate job of
feeding myself, so why the sadness?
Well, I must confess that there are times when I do miss some of the days gone
by. I grew up in a small town that
seemed to me like growing up in Mayberry; innocent, safe and fun. I was blessed to grow up in one of the most
loving and nurturing homes I have seen.
My parents modeled true love and joy in their lives as long as they lived. I miss talking to them. I am extremely proud of the women my girls
have grown up to be, but I miss having them running around the house. I have been blessed to have a mother and
father-in-law who loved me like one of their own. However, it saddens me to see daily
increasing ways that Alzheimer's, cancer and other ailments rob them of life.
As a pastor for nearly 40 years I stood and shared with
grieving families in enough hospital rooms, nursing homes and gravesides where
it was hard not to be sad even when I proclaimed (and still believe in the hope
of Christ). I have traveled to 5 of the
7 continents ministering and proclaiming the love and hope of the Gospel. I have had glorious experiences beyond my
dreams and have met wonderful inspirational brothers and sisters in the
faith all around the world. My many years and vast experiences
have allowed me to experience the roller coaster of emotions in this life.
I have discovered that even with the belief of abundant and
eternal life that is the heart of the Gospel, there can be an overwhelming
sadness that creeps into every life. I
have witnessed and experienced the reality of the great evil and injustice in
this world. Evil exists. Evil, hate, bigotry will always be in this
life creating sadness. A small child
taught me that EVIL is LIVE spelled backwards.
The key is to reverse EVIL and LIVE.
Psalm 104 has been a ‘go to’ scripture for me since the days
of my youth. When I have times of
despair or when sadness creeps in it is important to be reminded who is in
control, who created and is still managing things according to His plan. Go there as often as you can.
In that same mood Mary Oliver wrote a poem, entitled The
Summer Day where she ponders the uniqueness of life and in the simple
everyday items of God’s wonderful world brimming with life, unique creatures…and
death. She closes with the question that
makes the point that much of how we enjoy or despair in life is dependent on
our own decision concerning what we plan to do with our one wild and precious
life.
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-the one who has flung herself out
of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and
down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her
face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention,
how to fall down into the grass,
how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed,
how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and
precious life?
Yes, there
is wondrous life all around us. There is
also death that comes to all and often seemingly too soon. So in the midst of it all it is up to us to
decide how we will spend our one wild and precious life. My dad had a plaque on his desk that read, “For
every second you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness.” The same is true with sadness or any other
emotion that robs you of joy. One may
not be able to ward off the emotions that come our way but it is up to us to
keep them from settling in and making themselves at home in our lives. You cannot keep the birds from flying
overhead but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair. So, make a deliberate daily decision to live
in the enjoyment of the simple pleasures of God’s unique world.
I could be handy, mending a fuse when your
lights have gone. You can knit a sweater by the fireside, Sunday mornings go for a ride. Doing the
garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more? Will you still need me; will
you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?
