Age Is Just a Number?

What's all this about age being just a number? Let's see. AGE is just a number. Age is JUST a number. Age is just a NUMBER. I think we put the emphasis on the "just" to show that age doesn't really matter. Actually "age" is a word, but we won't quibble. Exactly what do people mean when they say this? I'm afraid it too often means, "I am a fading celebrity, and I want to date a girl who is about the age of my granddaughter." That's creepy, and it's not what normal people like me mean.

But exactly what do I mean? And is it just a number? How much does it matter? It seems to matter most to the very young. A child who has been 12 for one day tells everyone he is almost 13. Actually, I think it always matters. This world operates in time. Even though we know we are eternal, we think in terms of time. That's all we can do, and time's important to God. The whole Bible is set in the context of time. "...and in the process of time it came to pass..." and "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:" When we're a child or teenager, we think we have lots of time. This may or may not be true. A 10-year-old may have 80 years left, or he may have 80 seconds. But the perception of the young is that they have unlimited time.

Then we reach about 40 or 45 and we think. "Whoa, my life is half over." When I was teaching, I always told my students my age.  Actually, I let them figure it out by putting the year of my birth on the board. One year a little girl looked up, surprised, "Wow, you're older than my grandmother!" And so it sneaks up on us. We move a little more slowly; the knees creak; people begin to treat us differently--partially as if we are fragile and partially as if we are slow learners. Perhaps both cases are true.

I do know this. We remain the same person on the inside no matter what our age. It's interesting that my mental picture of myself hasn't changed all that much in my adult life even though the physical picture has surely changed a lot! Unlike my teenaged self, I am now aware that I may not have much time left, and I don't want to waste it!

The Forest

Mondays were special this summer; I watched two of my grandsons every Monday. We did not stay home even one of those Mondays but went out to find an adventure each week. We tried the various local parks for the first two or three weeks. They were OK, but we really hit on the right place when we went to the Prince William Forest Park in Triangle. Wow! What a treasure!

I had gone to Prince William Forest Park last fall with a friend for a walk. We checked in the visitor's center to pay for parking, and they told me of the best bargain you can imagine. While it costs $5 per car to park every time you visit, I could buy a lifetime senior citizen pass for $20, and it's good at all national parks! Hurray for being old!

Anyway, we started with the easiest trail which took us to the forest floor on that first day. It was rainy and very dark by the time we reached the bottom. It was still and quiet, and we didn't see another soul. Jackson commented, "Wow, this is kind of spooky." It was spooky, but we persevered, read some of the signs labeling the plants and trees: white oak, yellow poplar, Virginia pine, mountain laurel, red oak, and American beech. We learned that the forest is home to a variety of wildlife, and we saw three white-tailed deer that day. The signs told us snakes and garden spiders also live in the forest, but I am happy to report that we didn't see any.

On each return trip to the park, we tried more trails, each a little more challenging--for us--remember that we are a team of Grandmother and two little kids. On our last visit there we tried the "Laurel Loop" trail, 1.3 miles. That doesn't sound too long, but it is very steep and hard walking. We had tried it from the other end of the loop one day and turned back, not sure whether or not we had gone half way. This time we determined to finish it. So we made it all the way to the Quantico Creek at the bottom of the forest floor. We looked up at the canopy soaring above--possible 80 feet high. It was quiet except for the soft noises of birds and moving water.

I said, "God made a beautiful world. Yes, God made a beautiful world."

We successfully climbed back to the top, back to civilization. The kids played on the playground for a while, and then we started back home. I pulled onto I-95 which was traveling at a crawl because of road construction, and even with air conditioning in the car, it was hot. I began to feel tense.

Then from the back seat Elliot, age 4, said, "MawMaw?"

"Yes, Elliot."

"God made a beautiful wuwld...God made a beautiful wuwld."

"Yes, He did, Elliot. Yes, He did."