Not "Funny, Ha Ha!"

Age is a funny thing. Not, Funny Ha Ha! But rather, Funny, hmmm. The sort of thing that makes you stop and ponder a bit. Until recently I never looked my age. When I graduated from high school (eons ago) people at church were surprised, thinking I was still in junior high. Back then it sort of hurt because you wanted to think you were more mature and sophisticated than you really were.

Looking 10 years younger than you really were began to feel like a compliment in my late 30s and continued on through my early 50s. It always felt good to have someone exclaim in surprise that I was [insert age]! Without exception they would estimate my age 8 to 10 years younger than I was. Even as recent as 5 years ago, when I would proudly say that Thomas and I had been married 40 years, I would get puzzled looks to which I would quickly add: "I was a child bride, of course," just hoping the comment added to their consternation.

But the last 5 years have aged me noticably--more gray hair, sagging jaw, "crepey" neck skin, tipping the scales heavier than ever before in my life, flabby forearms.... Need I say more? (Hearing recent reports about presidents aging at twice the rate of other professions, I am wondering if any studies have been done on the rate of aging among pastors and clergy.)

The funny part of all of this is that the internal aging process does not match the external evidence. On the inside I do not feel as old as my birth certificate and driver's license say I am. Granted, I do feel a bit wiser with added responsibilities as a pastor. And I have gained some skills and understanding that only come with life experiences. These I cherish. But ever so often I have to stop and remind myself that I am in the category that our society considers "old." I qualify for senior discounts--but have for almost ten plus years in some circles (Denny's, for example) and that didn't make me feel old. However, last year when I received my Social Security card it became official. I am old. Last December our first-born turned 40 and that was another one of those rude awakenings. My initial reaction: How can I have a 40 year old son when I am only 45?

Don't misunderstand my pondering. I would not retreat into a previous age even if it were possible. Every season of life has been an adventure and a blessing, but I don't want to go back. But I remember the first time I had to adjust my internal clock to match reality. I was in Switzerland, a young wife of five years, great with child (our first-born), and I woke up one morning with the thought, "Barbara, you are not 18 any more!" So, maybe today's blog is my way of reminding myself that I'm not 45 any more!