I find that though I am older now and cannot run as fast or as far physically, the ground that I have covered over the years, and my experiences, both good and bad, have produced fond memories of blessings of my heavenly Father’s tenderness and mercy. To meet with Jesus nightly, as I found myself last night at 3 AM, is the sweetest of occasions as I walked with Him along the rows of harvests past: some of wheat; far too many of chaff. As for my early morning meetings, old people with childlike hearts are easily awoken. Young people; who want to escape childhood, sleep long hours.)
Nonetheless, while my walk with Him since retirement is a sort of jubilee, I think it soon will be time to plant again. Though my fields have seemed to lie fallow since I last worked outside the home, it appears time again to sow.
‘But sow what?’ I ask of Him.
‘So what?’ The slothful and unfaithful man inside retorts.
‘Ignore him,’ I grumble to myself.
(As for grumbling, please let me say that old men have earned the right to grumble; not in the sense that we’re commanded not to grumble or complain; just because we’re old and sound that way. Young people haven’t the length of life to know how and what to grumble about; certainly not with the deep rasp and angst that is required by my learned definition. My goodness, their voices haven’t changed!)
The fact is though, I don’t know what to sow or where. I believe the Lord has led me to share my Musings and Darts in my blog, but I wonder if there isn’t more. There is more; isn’t there? Still, I trust You, Lord, and love our early morning jaunts. And, yes Lord, I know You guide my steps.
(Now, what I’ve just shared is finally something that old and young share alike: concern about their futures, and hopefully, we share a trust in God! Of course, I can now hear the wisdom of youth ending this discussion by saying, ‘Yes, however shortened your future is old man!’)
(To that? Yes, I grumble.)