On Growing Older...

"I'm growing older but not up
My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck
Let those winds of time blow over my head
I'd rather die while I'm living than live while I'm dead."

 ~Jimmy Buffett

As I fast approach the time when I feel as though I will be forced to do the latter (sorry Jimmy...) I find myself reflecting on such a prospect.  Those who know me know how I refuse to let life go by without a little comedy.  No, I'm not assuming that I'm even funny.  I just didn't see the point of being so serious all the time.  I heard somewhere that the person who reads the comics section of the newspaper first will live longer than the one who reads the front page.  I don't know how much truth that comment holds, but it sounded good to me! 

This brings another thought to mind. (Bear with me - I do believe that I have AOADD...Adult onset attention deficit disorder...)  Don't take yourself too seriously. You, after all, are only you.  Scripture tells us that when we take ourselves too seriously we run the risk of having our plans failing, and failing miserably.  What, then, do we take seriously? Our God - certainly.  Our family - of course.  How about the time that we have left? 

Thoreau pulled away from society for a couple of years presumably to ponder life and its meanings.  Of all the things he 'found' for himself, I'm not sure that he found that which is alone worth finding.  We are told that, if we are to gain our lives, we must first lose our lives.  At what point in life do we actually, consciously, lose our lives? Is it upon confession and repentance?  Is it at an early age, or later in life?  Does it happen over and over again, or just once?  I have found that, if you keep 'you' in the forefront, you aren't even close to losing our life.  Maybe the real question is whether or not it's your life in the first place.  If losing your life isn't part of growing up (specifically, the 'growing' part...) then what is?  What can possibly differentiate your 'grown up' years from all the others, if not losing all that you have held onto with white knuckles?

Fifty. 

When I was fourteen, I had a dream that I would not live to be thirty-six.  Now I am on the brink of being fourteen years older than I dreamed I would never live to be.  Sort of an odd thought, I know.  My mother died when she was only 45. I have now lived 5 years longer than she.  When did she grow up?  What even constitutes growing up? 

So...maybe I'll grow up this year.  If you see me, let me know how well I did...