Last week, right here on the blog, I resolved not to run around like a chicken this summer. My silly optimism can be so pitiful sometimes. On Thursday night we had a rainy swim meet in Chattanooga, when it finally ended, Dub and I drove to Atlanta for a long-course meet at Georgia Tech. We rolled in about 11pm, but I couldn’t get to sleep because I drank coffee to be alert on the drive.
Then yesterday morning I watched a few of his events, trying to walk the campus a bit in between his races. Then I drove back to our hotel near Suntrust Park to shower, and then to the other end of Atlanta at Georgia State for a basketball tournament Nate was playing in. When Nate finished, he and I sped back to hotel to meet up with the rest of the Jacksons. Then Will, Dub and I went back to to the meet, while Nate and Sam created a basketball game in the hotel pool, inventively using a medicine ball and a hamper. By the time Dub raced in three finals it was much later than I’d hoped. We ended up arriving to the yummy restaurant recommendation from a friend at 8:45p. Not only had I run around like a mad chicken, I’d run around like a mad chicken in Atlanta, which is really taking it up a notch. Oh and it was raining cats and dogs for portions of the day.
I had a headache and may have been just a touch hangry. I’m not sure I fully appreciated the delicious food and lovely conversation. Sadly, I am just too old to run around that much. Near the end of our meal, a grandmother was being guided out of the restaurant by a couple of attentive granddaughters. They had her by the elbow, but the elder was concerned about walking down the ramp adjacent to our booth.
“It’s going down!” she said, in a loud voice. “It’s going DOWN!”
All three of us could not help but pay attention.
After she was out of earshot, my funny husband said, “Was she talking about life? Or just the ramp?”
Because in many respects life is going down. Getting old is not fun. I don’t like looking in the mirror and seeing the stark evidence. I don’t like having inexplicable aches and pains on an almost daily basis. Yet I think it’s lamentable when people live in denial of truth. The ardent search for a fountain of youth is foolish. You are going to die. I’m going to die. Unless, you die early you are going to look and feel old. I strongly prefer the look of a wrinkled old woman than a stretched and puffed one. The latter strikes me as a thousand times sadder. Sure, super-stretched is an absurd look, but it also evidences a disconnect with reality. It’s like they’re wearing propaganda on their face: “It’s not going down!” Sorry, despite the Botox and the fillers and the stretching, it is indeed going down.
Still, there’s something deep in us that wants to reject degeneration and decay. Where did that longing come from? It came from God. He planted the idea of eternity in our hearts. He promises to meet our every need, even the longing to make all things new. But it’s not in this life. In this life we are called to trust God’s plan, “resting on the pillow of God’s sovereignty” (an expression recently used by one of my pastor’s that’s quickly become my new favorite metaphor), and to keep pressing on toward the prize.
Trust. Rest. And press on.
May I do all three of these things much much better in the days to come.
And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you. Psalm 9:10 ESV
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30 ESV
I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Philippians 3:14 ESV.