“They will still bear fruit in old age” (Psalm 92:14).
For reasons unknown to me, I have never looked upon myself as a senior.
I’ve smiled when host pastors would welcome everyone to our senior adult emphasis, then say something as outlandish as “If you’re 50 and above, you’re a senior.” Why, I have children who would qualify by that standard, but they’re barely out of their teens.
I’m smiling. This is serious but with a wink.
The other day, while riding the train from Concourse D to Concourse B in the Atlanta airport, I entered the crowded car and spotted an empty seat toward the rear. As I settled into it, I noticed the sign read “for handicapped and seniors.” My spirit smiled at that. “I’m a senior.”
It felt good, actually.