Growing Old Today

I was recently on a flight home, and as I was scoping the plane to see who was about to be thousands of feet in the air with me, a precious little old lady caught my eye. I looked at her silver hair, wrinkled hands and delicate frame, and I wondered what she thought about when she looked back on years past. I imagined in that moment, that she didn't care how much money she had or what her body had looked like or how many people were enamored by her success. I imagined she cared only about how well she had loved those she'd known through the years.

I spend a lot of time thinking about the kind of old person I hope to become one day: I have a clear image of this sweet little old lady in my head. I think about her daily. She's a sarcastic pistol who is oozing with grace and compassion, with a warm home open to any lost wanderer or wounded soul. I envision a woman who pours herself out for the lonely, the rejected--a woman who embodies the mercy and love of Jesus Christ and creates a space for others to just exhale. But I know I won't become that kind of old woman if I'm not choosing to be that kind of woman now. I know the choices I make today dictate the kind of woman I will eventually become. We don't naturally morph into godly, selfless people. So while I might be far from the sweet little old lady in my mind, I keep her image before me as a compass for how to use my time, energy, and resources right now.

I share all this only to ask  you the question: when you picture the kind of person you hope to become one day, what does he or she look like? What do you hope you'll be able to say about the life you've lived? Most of us hope to be the kind of people who poured ourselves out for others, the kind of people who took seriously the call: "Unto whom much has been given, much shall be required." It's so easy for the truly vital parts of life-- uninterrupted conversation, car rides filled with stories, listening to someone who feels invisible--to be swept aside in the name of responsibilities. While different seasons obviously place different constraints on us all, my prayer is that you'll evaluate ways you might be able to pour yourself out now, in this very season of your life. And if you're looking for a place to invest yourself in the lives of those who are hungry, we have a desperate need for more genuine believers to come alongside the precious group of high school students who are opening up their hearts every Tuesday night at Mercy Street. Here's to being--right now--the kinds of people we hope to become!