So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom.-Psalm 90:12

You are never too young to think about getting old. Or at least this is what I hold to. We are all dying every day. You are the youngest you will ever be at this moment, but you are also the oldest you have ever been. 

Sometimes I wonder how we would view age if we kept track of the number of days we have been alive, rather than the years. Would we feel our transience a little bit more, or would would the days get buried in the abundance of trailing numbers? 

On June first I turned twenty-four. I'm not going to crack jokes, trying to take hold of the privileges of a higher number while maintaining the benefits of being "young". But I do want to grow in the wisdom that comes from God, and I do want to take hold of that wisdom through processing life as it comes. None of us, no matter our number of gray hairs, will ever "arrive" this side of Heaven. I may not have the benefit of a large breadth of experiences, but I don't want to miss out on gleaning from the ones that I have. Give me a small library to be well-versed in over Powell's books barely scanned any day.*

I am "young", but I am also older than I was before. My body is breaking down--slowly, to be sure, but  it has settled upon being chiseled by the crashing waves as I pass through the waters. My outer person is wasting away with the hours, but my inner self is being renewed day by day to look like Jesus. The world is dressing me down, tearing at my dress like Cinderella's jealous stepsisters, but the Father is dressing me up in a wedding gown. Sin and death scratch their claws over our skin, but there is a transformation taking place that neither have power to reverse. In Christ, death dies. In Christ, the dead are brought to life.

That is something to look forward to.











*No offense to Powell's and their fans. I know that if I ever get to visit Portland one day I will get woozy at the sight of all of those books.