To quote Fred Sanford, “It’s the big one, Elizabeth!”
Of course, Fred was talking about a heart attack. I’m talking about a birthday later this week. I don’t want to tell you how old, but the first number is a 6.
It’s hard to believe that I’m turning 60. I’m sure you don’t have trouble believing it. After all, you can see the picture in the paper, or for a more recent one look at our church’s website. Or you may see me each week.
I imagine that some of you have no difficulty at all believing.
But I promise you this. I was just 30 last week, 18 last month and 12 a couple of months ago – or so it seems. I can recall riding a bike for hours in a day, playing basketball until the sun went down, and even sledding down a snowy hill with my youngest son in my lap until we couldn’t climb back up again.
The only bike I ride today is a recumbent one that sits in front of the TV. I watched the NBA finals last month. And I’m fine if I never see another snowflake again as long as I live.
limitations than I’ve ever had in my life. At the same time, I can honestly declare that I don’t “feel” 60, whatever 60 is supposed to feel like.
I wouldn’t mind being able to run up and down a ball court for a couple of hours, putting up a few jump shots and even playing a little defense. I would enjoy being able to jump over the garden fence like it’s bump in the road.
But I have to say this. I don’t want to be 30 again. I’ve earned the age of 60. I believe I’m wiser today than I was then. I’ve learned lessons – many the hard way – that I don’t want to learn again.
And I’m closer to home than I’ve ever been before. Don’t get me wrong here. I enjoy life here on earth. I’m not in a hurry to get to heaven. But when the time comes I’ll be ready. And I’m closer than I’ve been before.
We are having a Frachiseur (my mom’s maiden name) family reunion on my birthday. I’m going to pretend it’s my birthday party, and I’m going to thank all my cousins for coming.
Sixty’s not so bad. It’s a gift from the Lord. I’m going to enjoy it.