My mirror tells me that I am definitely growing older but that doesn’t mean I’ve grown better or wiser. I am still clumsy and tend to wade into discussions where even angels fear to tread. I sometimes try new things and they work or sometimes I fail miserably.
My computer is a fascinating mystery still … my lost emails no doubt, are sitting somewhere in space with the lost socks from my last laundry. And, the multitude of communication gadgets available, are beyond my understanding. I doubt if I could learn to “text” as I have arthritis in my left thumb.
I’ve lost all contact with young people (except for my grandchildren) but yesterday a young man at the grocery store stopped to chat about my choice in muffin mix. He has no idea how his warm smile and conversation warmed my whole day. I find young people a bit of a mystery … interesting and sometimes fascinating but not always understandable. I think they often find seniors the same way.
My grandson put himself through university by working as a lifeguard at a swimming pool. His job was to get there by 5:30 a.m. and open the pool. He told me that many mornings when he arrived he would find a row of cars filled with seniors waiting for the pool to open. “Do they never sleep?” he questioned me.
Someday he will know the answer to that question. Sleep patterns for seniors are not reliable. There is no way I can tell if I will get a good night’s rest regardless of bedtime. And there are many nights I wander around checking my neighbour’s windows to see if they are having similar sleep problems.
Max Lucado in his book Gentle Thunder talks of his sleeping daughter being carried upstairs to her bedroom and compares it to us going to heaven. I am not quite ready for that analogy to happen in my life but a good night’s sleep is a solace much sought after.
Sleeplessness for me is usually the result of food, worry or exhaustion. Food and temptation usually join hands. I do mess up sometimes. Exhaustion is the result of pride. I often think I am much younger and stronger than I really am. Worry is a bit of a problem and often only solved with me pleading for God to handle my concern. Sometimes He is silent but most often a cry in the night is answered by a great email in the morning. (No, I do not have God’s email address … but his earthly angels in the form of my cherished friends are often the ones to raise my spirits and give me hope.)
So, I muddle along, older but not smarter or much better but hopefully still responding to a small voice calling: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not unto your own understanding, in all your ways acknowledge him … and he will direct your path.”
