Reflections on a 61st Birthday

 

Today is the beginning of my 61st year. Who would have imagined this 6+ decade ride? I'm where my teenage self never envisioned I would have been. Most of my adolescent years I couldn't even think of myself past 21, and suspected I'd be dead by then. And yet, here I am.

In this regard my soul resonates with the lines Ulysses S. Grant opened his personal memoirs with, ""Man proposes and God disposes." There are few important events in the affairs of men brought about by their own choice" ("The Personal Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant: The Complete Annotated Edition," 3). I cannot conceive of a better way to put it, in fully earthly words. I have gone places, done things, seen events, experienced moments that I had nowhere listed on my mental map. And, even through the tears, fears, grief, and heartbreak, it has been good.

But it has been all too fast. 6+ decades have sped by in a few minutes. A 42 year marriage with my High School babe that is alive and well, despite myself. Four adult children somewhere on the spectrum of healthy and Christian. A twenty year Air Force enlisted career and over twenty years as a Presbyterian minister. I've carried weapons and almost killed a man in the line of duty. I've published books, earned my 2nd degree blackbelt, picked up wood carving, run 5ks and a half marathon, read a bajillion books and written reviews on a bazillion, and finished four degrees, from associates to doctorate. But it has all been blowing by like a bullet train speeding down the tracks and no way to reclaim lost time, repair bad decisions, or recoup neglected moments with family. 

There's only one train station where I can debark and it's just up ahead. I think I can faintly see it up there, on the horizon. And the train just keeps on speeding forward, blasting past events and engagements. Oddly enough, in my devotional reading this morning, I was in Psalm 144, and had to stop briefly and reflect on these words:

"O LORD, what is man that you regard him, or the son of man that you think of him? Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow" (Psalm 144:3-4).

A breath. A passing shadow. A breeze that momentarily bends a blade of grass and then vanishes. Ah, yes. What a healthy reminder. I appreciate the sobriety of Sacred Scripture. It's much healthier that the Disney version that gives the impression of entitled immortality. But, no. We have a shelf-life, an expiration date. And it's good to live with the brevity in mind, since it clears one's head and brings one to contemplate, sooner than later, on the end of their life's chapter.

And, if the Scripture is correct (and I think it is); and if Jesus is right (and I trust that he is), the end is only the end of the introduction to my story. There is more to come, many more pages and chapters, wrapped up in the death, resurrection, and reign of Jesus. That gives me courage as the train races on, picking up speed, speeding on toward that faintly seeable train station appears ahead. And so, I happily and heartily embrace and recite an old statement of faith, written for the likes of me.

What is your only comfort in life and in death?

That I, with body and soul, both in life and in death, am not my own, but belong to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ, who with His precious blood has fully satisfied for all my sins, and redeemed me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me, that without the will of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; indeed, that all things must work together for my salvation. Wherefore, by His Holy Spirit, He also assures me of eternal life, and makes me heartily willing and ready from now on to live for Him.

Pastor Mike