When did Sting, Lionel Richie, Phil Collins, Eric
Clapton and Vince Gill become "oldies"? It seems the last time I consciously pondered
it, "oldies" stations on the radio featured The Platters, Roy Orbison
and various girl-groups ending in "—ettes." But now the only new songs I recognize are the re-made
classics or the soundtracks from commercials during the playoffs. (Seriously,
just an hour ago I heard Roberta Flack’s, “Killing Me Softly,” performed by
some unknown-to-me teenager with a recording contract). My father's collection of vinyls celebrated wanting
to hold your hand and a bridge over troubled water. Now my kids—not I—know
who set fire to the rain and when to chant "ho – hey." Where
did the middle go? It was here just a
few minutes ago. An age is passing.
Getting older is puzzling. Who among us gets it
right? We, each of us, have never gotten
older before. Our one shot at it is our
last shot at it. I'm still getting over
the realization that I'll never be signed to sing a duet with Josh Groban or
harmonize with Zac Brown. [Heck, gone
are the days of just being able to cut my toenails without first sucking in my
breath.] This isn’t a tirade about
wrinkles and gray hair—it is genuine question, “How does one age well?”
Ah, but therein is the golden center: Jesus
alone knows how to grow old well. He, in
fact, skates figure-eights around our clumsy aging process. We do it with ignorance, but Jesus ages with
grace—“And He continued to grow and become strong, increasing in wisdom; and the grace of
God was upon Him” (Luke 2:40). The
expected push-back is this: Jesus barely reached His thirties, how could He
know anything about growing old? And so
it comes—the part that blows my mind.
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