My Musings – Over the past year it seems like we’ve lived under the specter of death constantly. The reality, we always live under the specter of death no matter what age we are. And we are constantly counting down (or is it counting up?).
Ten to Seventy-Five – When I was a child, I couldn’t wait to be ten, double digits. My oldest son did not quite make it to ten. In ten years I’ll be seventy-five. I can wait.
Thirteen to Seventy-Eight – Thirteen sounded so exciting, a teenager. In thirteen years I’ll be seventy-eight, with thirteen years experience of being a senior citizen.
Sixteen to Eighty-One– What about sixteen? Still a teenager but old enough to drive. In sixteen years I’ll be 81, a teenager with dyslexia.
Twenty-One to Eighty-Six – Most of my peers could not wait until they were twenty-one, legal drinking age. If I live another twenty-one years I’ll be eighty-six. Older than my dad when he passed away. I’ve never had a drink of alcohol in my life, but if I live that long, maybe a toast will be in order. I like cinnamon and sugar on my toast.
Twenty-Five to Ninety – Twenty-five was a significant age for American males of draft age in the 1960’s and 1970’s, when the Vietnam war was raging and I became draft age. At twenty-five you were no longer draft eligible, apparently too old to fight. In twenty-five years, if the Lord chooses to keep me here, I’ll be ninety. Too old for just about anything, but if the Lord sees fit to keep me around that long, not too old for a purpose.
Thirty-Six to 101 – I never really thought that much about getting old until I hit thirty-six. Thirty did not bother me, as it does for many. But at thirty-six I realized that those graduating high school that year were born the year that I graduated high school. Did I mention that I never had a drink? Well for some reason, the thought of those graduating seniors just being born when I graduated was a sobering thought. Now, my youngest son is thirty-six. In thirty-six years years, if still around, I’d be 101 (my “little boy” would be seventy-two). But most likely, I will have graduated to Heaven by then. Now that will be the best update to my profile picture.
My Advice – “Tell me I’ve led a good life. Tell me I’m a good man.” — Old Private Ryan in “Saving Private Ryan.” Perhaps haunted by the last words of Captain Miller who led the mission to save him, “James . . . earn this. Earn it.”
By all means lead a good life. By all means be a good man or woman. But whether young or old (preferably young) “remember him—before the silver cord is severed, or the golden bowl is broken; before the pitcher is shattered at the spring, or the wheel broken at the well, and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.” (Ecclesiastes 12:6–7, NIV 1984). Because you cannot “earn it” no matter how long you live and strive for it. “It” being eternal life. Christ gave His life to save you. You can never earn it. But until your “dust returns to the ground it came from,” you can receive it. “Readers…receive this. Receive it.”
The Brew Is A Musing 
Amen.
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