One More Step

Today I turn another page. Forty-five years old and still feeling like I'm in college. I can't kid myself into feeling as physically fit as I did at 20, but I'm not falling apart yet. I had my spirits lifted yesterday morning when the owner of a local cafe and I were engaged in conversation about kids going back to school. Yesterday our youngest began his senior year in high school and our oldest returns today to begin his second year in college. The owner remarked with astonishment "You don't look old enough to have kids that old!" How right she is! My fantasy world continues. . .

Occasionally life provides epiphanies concerning the past and the future. They come as clarity is provided to pressing questions:

"What can I look back on with pride?"

"What have I left undone?"

"What will the next 10 years hold?"

"How can I become an even better learner and achiever?"

I have some regrets (I don't believe that anyone goes through life without at least a few, despite what they say) and I have left plenty of things undone, but I can count more than a few accomplishments of which I am proud. And the blessings of God in my life are too numerous to list, so many of them in the form of relationships.

As for the future, I see great potential ahead as God helps me through some of my weaknesses and gives me His wisdom. Each year seems to clarify the things that really matter. It is as though my mind and life is impure gold ore placed on a slow heat from the time of my birth. Each year a little more dross rises to the surface and is skimmed away. The contents of the cauldron draws closer each year to gold of great value.

I suppose my greatest struggle is marrying wisdom with lifestyle. I see clearly how my life and the lives of others should be, but the current of the world usually runs counter to that direction. It is an intimidating challenge to paddle upstream. After floating so long in one direction, my paddling muscles are weak. Some days I merely hope to be able to turn the canoe around and at least be pointed in the right direction, even if the current pulls me backwards.

And then I remember, I don't paddle alone. The last half of my life could eclipse the joy of the first half.