There is an advantage in piling up birthdays. The first time I was aware of it was when I turned 40. I had a feeling of authority... I knew things. I had survived. And I could tell anyone who stood still long enough how to live his/her life.
I am, however, beginning to fear this confidence that apparently grows with the increasing number of birthdays. I notice that others, whose piles are somewhat higher than mine, have leaped forward to a breathtaking "I-am-what-I-am"!
Last week, I was distracted from my joyful reunion with Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, by two whispering (older) women standing at the end of the bookshelf.
"Oh no one's around. I don't care."
What didn't she care about? That someone might see her trying on shorts, over her shorts, at the end of an aisle! Several pair!
UN-believable. (No photos... she might have cared if I had pulled out my camera.)
To confirm the truth of my observation, I show you this photo...
taken by my dearly beloved, on a busy street in big-city, Maryland. When asked for permission to take his picture, the man said, "Why not? Should I smile?"
I'm not sure if I admire the why not spirit that accompanies age... or if I'm scared witless that I'll get there someday.
Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6