60

Well, it’s happened. I knew it would one day. But I’ve lived for so long putting it off and not thinking about it that I sort of thought it would never happen. But it has. And I don’t know how. Well, I do really because I know you can’t stop it. And now that’s become a reality. As you may know, I turned 60 in April. I know! I’m finding it hard to believe as well. In fact I think I’m still in denial. All those other milestone ages I’ve passed seemed to go off much more smoothly and affect me less. But somehow this one…And I’m now a pensioner! Can you believe it? A pensioner? I was a teacher for ten years and that pension kicks in at 60. So I’m a pensioner. It’s all a lot to take in. And as if all that’s not hard enough for me to get my head around, the reality hit me like a brick last weekend. We had relatives from the USA visiting and so we took them to Hever Castle to see some English history. I love Hever Castle with all it’s history and intrigue. But something was about to happen that would stop me in my tracks. Lisa went to pay for our tickets and I heard these sobering words: “One senior ticket and one normal ticket please.” Wait…what? One senior ticket? And one normal ticket? Lisa turned to me with a broad grin on her face, but she had no idea of the depth of my shock! Suddenly and without warning, I was a senior person! It didn’t matter that my ticket was cheaper. What mattered was that I was senior person! Nooooo! Don’t say that! I’m not ready for that! The day I thought would never come was upon me! I’m pleased to say Lisa apologised for contrasting one senior ticket with one normal ticket, as if somehow implying I wasn’t normal (which might might be whole discussion in itself)! But the impact of that very brief conversation stayed with me! But here’s the thing: whatever I think, it’s true. I am 60. I was born in 1964. And I can’t stop the aging process however much I try or pretend. There are some truths that I am not in control of and this is one of them. I’m still active and try to keep fit. I’m still able to play football, golf, go to the gym, swim and go for walks and I’m very grateful for that. But I run more slowly, can’t keep up with the youngsters, can’t hit the ball as far, swim as fast as I once did, or run at the same speed. Those are all out of my control. Perhaps the question I am now faced with when confronted with the truth about life, is less abut what I can control and make happen, and more about how will I choose to live in the light of the truth of how life actually is? I can lament what is lost (or what I’m losing), or maybe I can embrace the way I will now choose to live. I spend lots of time with clients in my counselling work talking about loss. Loss isn’t just about death. It is that, but we experience loss in many different ways. I could turn into a grumpy old man (some might say I’m that already), or I can look life full in the face and live in it’s reality. Over the years in ministry I’ve met many people older than me who have done just that: in all of life’s challenges of getting older, they have embraced life as it it and lived well. I think that’s what Ecclesiastes might be trying to encourage us to do: life can be hard and unpredictable, sometimes cruel and tragic, sometimes completely out of our control…but trust God anyway. I’m having to engage that in a new way now. I’m hoping that I can do that well. I’ll try to accept the truth about getting older…and I’ll trust God anyway!