The Gray Hair of Experience

I don't feel old. Yet, the signs are there. My hair is gray. I have eight, almost nine, grandchildren. Sometimes I forget people's names, or why I walked into a certain room. I have a few wrinkles here and there, and too many aches and pains. Even so, I don't feel old because I still get around pretty well; I walk three miles or so every day. Sometimes I stop to sit on a convenient bench for a few minutes, just to rest, but then I get up and continue on my way. However, my need for rest must have been concerning to one other walker this summer, because he stopped to ask me if I was okay, just because I was sitting down for a minute. I assured him I was fine, and he continued on his way. And, lest you worry, too, I really was fine.

The sad part about getting older is that you stay young on the inside, but nobody can tell any more.

In a few weeks, we will be commemorating that fateful day when the World Trade Center was destroyed and the Pentagon was badly damaged when several jets were hijacked and used as weapons of destruction. 9/11 seems recent to me, but it happened 25 years ago. 

And the pandemic started more than six years ago. Nearly half of my grandkids weren't even born then. 

World War II, Pearl Harbor, the Great Depression, and the Roaring Twenties have always seemed like ancient history to me, but they all happened less than 30 years before I was born. It's no wonder that kids and young adults consider 9/11 to be far in the past, because it happened longer ago, for them, than most of those historical events that I always thought happened in the distant past when I was younger.

And just in my lifetime, so many things that were once a part of everyday life are gone and nearly forgotten. 

When was the last time you heard a sonic boom? Bomb shelters built in the sixties sit empty and unused. Car engines don't flood any more, but I can still remember that telltale smell of gas when I accidently flooded the engine. And even those once-ubiquitous whitewall tires are obsolete. 

Traditional family farms, with cows, pigs, chickens, and several crops are mostly gone. Horse drawn carriages and farm equipment have vanished, except in Amish country. Free range kids are rare, as are the merry-go rounds and tall, metal slides that used to be found in every park and playground. The giant, seasonal, Sears Catalogs have been replaced with Amazon, Temu, and other forms of online shopping.

No one wears overshoes or garters any more. Women in the US don't often wear fancy hats to church, as they did when I was growing up. Little girls don't usually wear dresses to school, and women are no longer required to wear them to work. 

TV antennas no longer reside on top of every house in the neighborhood, and inside TVs don't often have the rabbit ears that used to be so common. Floor furnaces and freestanding propane furnaces in the living room--gone. Sleeping porches, corded telephones, furry toilet seat covers--gone. Outhouses are only found in a few remote camping areas. 

Most polio survivers who were easily recognised by their leg braces or crutches have died. Most formerly common childhood illnesses, like measles and mumps, have, thankfully, been practically eradicated by the widespread use of vaccines.

Families used to gather around a single, small, black and white television to watch a truly funny sitcom or some well-known variety show. Now, some families still gather to watch their choice of movies on large, flat screen TVs, but consistently good, family-friendly TV shows are hard to find. And besides, everyone, young and old, seems to have their own personal electronic devices to use for watching countless YouTube videos or for playing video games of their choice.

So, as you can see, I've gained a wealth of experience, without even trying, that is mostly meaningless for the youngest generations. Just like me, they consider those things that happened before they were born to be somewhat interesting, but ancient history, just the same.

The glory of the young is their strength; the gray hair of experience is the splendor of the old.  Proverbs 20:29 NLT

I hope my kids and grandkids will be able to learn from my generation's experiences, from our successes as well as our mistakes. After all, most of our current technologies and social traditions have happened as a result of the hard work of all of the people who have gone before them--and us.

There is one thing I want them to remember, above all else. The God who has sustained us "old people" throughout our lifetimes will gladly give them everything they need, too. But I've noticed that he doesn't often go out of his way to provide for those who choose to ignore him. He wants to be your God throughout your lifetime. Will you let him?

Isaiah 46:4