Mr. Fantastic and I sat and ate a fabulous meal at our favorite restaurant.
My thoughts trailed back over the last twelve years of love and ministry. My heart gently embraced the joy of moving on from our younger years.
“I am glad I am getting older,” I said. “Age is a blessing. The years give you perspective.”
“Well, I don’t like getting older. But I’m glad I’m not twenty-five anymore, that’s for sure,” he replied.
Later I thought about our conversation as our family drove north through Oklahoma, past slightly dingy vintage diners, beside RVs driven by retired couples, and along row after row of beautifully plowed land.
When men and women talk of “getting older”, we are speaking of two different things.
My husband is still considered by western standards to be in his prime. Our culture allows men years and years of “prime”. Their “prime” has more to do with productivity than appearance. Men do face the pressure of attaining success before their “prime” years run out, so there is a potential barb in the passing of years for them, too.
As a woman, I hit my cultural “prime” in my late twenties, when youth and beauty flourished to whatever height I happened to attain. I have been on a slow descent ever since.
Pregnancy forever changed my girlish figure. The years have folded, smudged, and pressed on my appearance. Motherhood has distracted me from having any real idea about what is fashionable, and if it’s not at Target I don’t even know it exists.
If we swallow all the nonsense about deriving our identity from our appearance, we face a lifetime of continually losing our youthful perfection in increasing amount with each year that passes.
I have chosen instead to look the lie of youth straight in the face and trust that the years are a blessing.
The years may wrinkle my eyes, but they soften my heart, and the joy of love burns brighter within me.
I feel more beautiful today than I did in my twenties, because true beauty is shown in how we reflect the face of God in our lives. (And, believe me, I have come a long way in the last decade or so.)
No, I don’t mind the years with their downward slope on the other side of my “prime”.
The upward climb of youth wore me out, anyways. I am leaning forward, letting the hill carry me on down my path to more of Christ.
Mr. Fantastic and I, we are rolling through these years loving each other and God with all our might, choosing to seek first His Kingdom and let beauty and success fall where they may.
When we are retired from this work we love, driving along in our own RV, I have a feeling we will feel our best years are still just ahead of us.
That’s a beautiful future, indeed.
