“…seal up the book until the end of time; many will run to and fro, and knowledge will increase.” (Daniel 12:4)
The only constant, they say, is change.
I remember this so vividly. I was seated in a meeting alongside the president of the local college. Jim Strobel was always perfectly dressed, and today I noticed how sharp and crisp were the cuffs on his white dress shirts.
I said, “How do you get your cuffs like that?”
He said, “Like what?”
I pointed out the starched stiffness and white brilliance of his cuffs. And then showed him mine.
My cuffs were soft and looked as though they had hardly seen an iron.
Jim said, “I don’t know. They come back from the cleaners this way.”
The cleaners! Of course. He sends his shirts to the cleaners!
For years–ever since Margaret had started back to college and everyone had to pitch in on household chores–I had done my own dress shirts. Not that it was that big a deal: spray something around the necks, toss them in the washer with detergent, move them to the dryer, and run an iron over them later and put them on hangers in the closet.
Anyone could do that.
For the past quarter-century, I have sent my shirts to the cleaners. Even the ones I wear around town have those stiff cuffs I once admired so much.
These days, I rarely give the cuffs a thought.
In just so tiny ways, life changes.
I’m 72 years old. That’s hard to say and harder to believe. Last year I hit 30. And the week before that, I was in college.
Life moves on.
I bought a car last week–a Honda CR-V, which is some kind of an SUV or hatchback or something. Nothing about it was intended to be lavish or luxurious but something occurred to me.