They will still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be full of sap and very green. (Psalm 92:14)
A godly old person is a work of art, something worth beholding.
Define: “Old.”
Not me, buster. Never in a hundred years.
I’m by that the way I am when a woman says, “Guess how old I am.” Laverne did that to me a few weeks ago. I served as her pastor decades ago, and probably had a general idea of her age. But I said, “Do I look to you like I’ve lost my mind? There is no way I’m going to guess your age. Not in a hundred years would I attempt it.”
Then she told me her age. I was stunned. I would have missed–underguessing–by two decades or more.
Old, someone has said, is twenty years older than yourself. As a rule, that’s probably pretty accurate. But no longer for me. I turned 71 this week, and know that I’m edging pretty close to the dividing line. No amount of walking-on-the-levee or doing-pushups-in-front-of-the-television or pumping those small weights slows down the passage of time for one minute. The years come and then they go, leaving their mark, taking their toll.
And that’s just fine. It’s how God set up the world.
But there is good news.
God has made promises to His children who walk with Him faithfully into those senior years. Psalm 92:14 contains three such promises. However, before looking at them, let us remind ourselves of something vital.
What God has not promised is that you and I will get to be among those old people.
Growing old is a privilege. It means we are blessed with long life. Scripture sees this as a blessing from Heaven. However, no one is guaranteed a certain number of years.
Growing old is a privilege denied to a great many. Over these 50 years in the ministry, I have conducted funerals for people of all ages, from infancy up. Some we buried in young adulthood, as they left their little children behind, never to see them grow up and marry and have babies of their own. They would have given everything they owned to have the privilege you and I are being given, to grow old. To be called seniors.
Many of us do something really strange in this regard: We don’t want to die/ however, we do not want to get old.
Think of the contradiction. We want to continue living and not die, but we don’t want to get old in the process. We want it both ways.
I suggest we all embrace our seniorhood. Accept those lines in the face and the grey in the hair and when necessary, the stoop to the shoulders. It’s a small price we pay for being allowed to continue breathing–living and serving, loving and giving.
For those who will serve God through their years and continue into the latter years, God gives three promises: