An age-old problem is the old problem of aging. Now in my mid-seventies I find myself thinking a great deal about my own mortality. My age never factored in to my thinking as much as it does now. And as I reflect on the aging process, I see two different faces reflecting back at me. One face is the face of a contented and grateful soul. As I rehearse the events of my life, I discover I have a mountain of gratitude and only a few regrets. I am discovering greater freedom in learning to be the person God created me to be rather than an edited version that I imagine others expect. I am enjoying more relaxed conversations. I’m accepting more mystery and am content knowing less than I formerly knew. I am learning to notice people and events around me that I previously allowed to remain unnoticed. I’ve had the privilege of engaging with my children as they grew from infancy into adulthood. And now I’m witnessing my grandchildren do the same. I’m even experiencing the benefits of being on the planet for longer than most. I am a little wiser than I used to be. As I was typing the previous sentence I made a typo and wrote, “I’m a little wider than I used to be.” That is also the case. I no longer am required to have full-time employment. And as a spiritual director I have the sacred privilege of accompanying others on their journey. 

Psalm 92:12-15 gives me something to aspire to: “The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon, planted in the house of the LORD, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, ‘The Lord is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in Him.”

Psalm 46:4 affirms a similar hope, God saying, “Even in your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will rescue you.”

But there at times I see another face reflected back at me. I notice the wrinkles and grayer hair. I no longer have the energy and vitality I once had. Sometimes anxiety appears behind the smile. This face also prays the Psalms but these are Psalms sung in a minor key. Such as Psalm 71:9 “Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone.”

While I find comfort that the ancients had experiences similar to mine, I still find that aging brings a number of -well to put it politely – inconveniences. I am taking more trips and spending more money for medical care than I ever have before. I not only visit doctors on my own but I accompany my wife and some of my peers so they too can be poked, tested and evaluated by their physicians. I require stretches each morning simply to lubricate my stiff joints. It seems few weeks pass that I don’t hear about a friend or peer passing away or having open heart surgery, radiation, chemotherapy or getting some new body part. At family functions, I find myself talking to other aging family members and too often our conversations turn into “organ recitals.” The metaphors of aging in the book of Ecclesiastes are becoming lived out in real time for me and my peers. The writer encourages us to remember our Creator in the days of our youth before the days of trouble come. Yikes, I find they’re already here! Here are just some  examples from Ecclesiastes 12:

• when the keepers of the house tremble: hands and arms begin to tremble
• and the strong men stoop: the elderly no longer stand straight
• when the grinders cease because they are few: the loss of teeth
• those looking through the windows grow dim: we don’t see as well
• when people rise at the sounds of birds: some of us wake up earlier that we used to
• but all their songs grow faint: we no longer hear like we formerly did
• when people are afraid of heights and of dangers in the streets: lock those doors!
• When the almond tree blossoms: our hair turns white
• When desire is no longer stirred: I’d rather not comment on this one

That hardly sounds like flourishing. So how do I reconcile these two faces? I don’t. I hold them in tension. I was recently reminded by a wise mentor that aging is a part of my larger spiritual journey. I’ve been on the quest for quite some time now and this is simply the stage I’m in. While the tension doesn’t go away, here are some ways I’ve found to address the tension:

1. Acceptance: I need to remind myself that aging is inevitable and I’m fortunate to have made it this far. I’m not in control. In John 21:18, Jesus tells Peter, “when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” I must remind myself to surrender to the aging process that is part of life.
2. Trust: When Jesus said that no one can receive the kingdom unless he becomes like a child at least one thing he meant was an awareness of our dependence. Children know they cannot live life on their own. They willingly acknowledge they need the help of others.
3. Self-Care: Diminishment doesn’t mean that I give up and don’t give attention to the body God has given me. While there are some things I can no longer do, there are still many things I can. My mother lived into her nineties. She continued to exercise into old age. Her motto was, “use it or lose it.” She also cautioned me that, “aging ain’t for sissies.” I find I have to exercise discernment, recognizing there are some things I can no longer do but I need to press into the things I can.  
4. Care for others: Working part-time gives me freedom to have coffee with a neighbor dealing with dementia. I can linger longer to hear the challenges of my peers and those who are older than I as they share their own challenges.
5. Prayer: Others ask me to pray for them and when they ask, I pray. But I also pray for myself.  I pray for endurance, perseverance and grace. I once heard Dallas Willard say that there is an ancient tradition in the Christian community of praying for a “good-death.” I pray that as well.
6. Engage in life: Having been a pastor for many years and a home hospice chaplain for a while, I’ve witnessed more than a few deaths. I have found the saying of many hospice workers to be accurate: “People die the way they live.” Those who live life resisting every hardship and making everything a fight, have difficulty accepting the process of death. Those who have made peace with God and others may struggle but make the transition with more grace and peace. I want to be in the second category.

Perhaps all of the above is at least a part of what the Apostle Paul meant when he said in 2 Cor. 4:7 “We have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”