In Search of Lost Beauty
How to Age Wisely
Proverbs 20:29; Psalm 92:12-14
Grandma’s Confession
As a teenager, I recall my grandmother making an odd comment to me one afternoon. I lounged on her couch flipping through a Reader’s Digest magazine. She sat quietly with her eyes closed—not napping, “just resting her eyes” as she was fond of saying. The window air conditioner hummed in the background. Interrupting our drowsy silence she said, “I know I look old on the outside, but I still feel young on the inside.”
I didn’t know why she confessed that to me just then, or how I should respond. I admit her appearance did seem “old” to me with her white hair, customary wrinkles, and squishy hug. But that made her Grandma. I loved her, and all those qualities made her perfect to me. However, decades later I now begin to understand the angst she expressed in that remark.
The Challenges of Aging
“...I feel like a thirty-something mind trapped in a mis-matched body—one with an artificial knee, hair streaked with silver, and droopy everything.”
I recognize the privilege of aging in a world that offers no guarantees. Even after cancer, I’ve lived ten more years than my mother. Her cancer ended her life, while I survived mine. So, without her example to follow into the next decade, I wobble through uncharted territory without a guide. And now, as I begin to approach Grandma’s footsteps, I feel like a thirty-something mind trapped in a mis-matched body—one with an artificial knee, hair streaked with silver, and droopy everything.
Granted, in some ways I feel like my best self so far. Through the grace of painful life lessons, I’ve grown more mature and less foolish. But the boost of that advantage gets bogged down by a brain with maxed-out memory files and a body leaking energy like an old battery.
The Luminosity of Aging
I have choices in how I face the emotional tension of aging. I can fight against it, bemoan my lost youth, and hyper-focus on my limitations. Or I can honor the God-wrought wisdom and other maturing qualities emerging in this season. In my changing physicality, what would God bring forth from me? Thankfully, the Bible reveals a touch of his luminosity shining behind the dimming reflection in my mirror. The books of Proverbs and Psalms provide God’s viewpoint.
The wise writer of Proverbs emphasizes the goodness available to those on both sides of life’s journey:
“The glory of the young is their strength; the gray hair of experience is the splendor of the old.” (Proverbs 20:29 NLT) (Emphasis mine.)
“...though we physically diminish with age, we need not decline in the power of our influence, even as the impetus shifts from strength to wisdom.”
As we lose our youth (and outward beauty) in the normal passage of time, we need not lose our glory (or appeal). The words “glory” and “splendor” refer to adornments. In other words, we exchange the embellishments of energetic vitality for the valuable wisdom of life experience. The fresh blush of innocence transforms and matures into an inner glow of deeper understanding. And though we physically diminish with age, we need not decline in the power of our influence, even as the impetus shifts from strength to wisdom.
A Vision for Aging
I find it challenging to recognize this transformation taking place in myself. But I readily recall the elders in my life who impacted me with their rich virtue and deep spirits. For example, I cherish the minister’s wife, who knitted a blanket for me during my cancer recovery, while she struggled with failing eyesight. Each of the missed stitches in her gift shine of her sacrifice to bless me.
I admire my church friend who volunteers to teach Bible stories in a low-income elementary school, even in the fragility of her eighties. She doesn’t know that I smile at her steadfast service to others when I see her worshipping across the room on Sunday mornings.
I remember the encouragement from a senior woman who sent notes to me, almost weekly, during my mother’s illness. She typed each one out because of her difficulty in writing by hand.
In my single days of limited affection, I needed the warmth given to me by an older woman in my church. Each time she saw me in the hallways, I received a warm smile, gentle hug, and assurance of her prayers.
The souls of these white-haired saints infuse energy into my journey even today. I feel comforted by their quiet confidence and uplifted by the steady joy they hold. They testify to the possibility of victory over life’s hurdles. They demonstrate that hardships can yield beauty of character beyond passing pain. They inspire me in their victories, and I reverence their wisdom. They present a golden vision of what I hope I will achieve as my years lengthen.
Staying Evergreen
In addition to the encouragement of Proverbs, the Psalmist offers a vivid picture for those aging along God’s pathway. We not only develop glory within, but we also thrive and produce blessings for others.
“The righteous thrive like a palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Planted in the house of the LORD, they thrive in the courts of God. They will bear fruit in old age, healthy and green.” (Psalm 92:12-14)
Planted in God, we continue to flourish. Fertile with sweet dates, the palm tree thrives by sending down deep roots into underground waters. It bears fruit in the dry oasis, sustaining life in desolate places. And the noble cedar grows ever upward, evergreen, and expansive. Firmly rooted and strong, the cedars of Lebanon produce fragrant wood of the finest value, with a loveliness and strength worthy of the beams fashioned for Solomon’s temple.
Beauty Rediscovered
When I remember my grandmother, I see her with the eyes of my heart. I loved her snowy hair, watery blue eyes, and crinkly skin. Yet her constancy, humility, and inner strength eclipsed them all. She refused to complain as her body weakened. She bore the loneliness of widowhood with quiet fortitude. She continued to serve, gathering women in her little house to pray for missionaries. She patiently endured the indignities of declining health as she moved into nursing care. As her body suffered, she persevered in choosing gentleness and kindness.
When Grandma made her odd comment that afternoon, perhaps it was only a private musing that slipped out. Even so, I now realize she tucked a map into my pocket. One that became fleshed out by other silver-crowned saints crossing my path. And as I edge into the challenges of the territory ahead of me, I want to be like them. I want to be like her.
I long to be that beautiful.
Meet my grandmother:
LaUna G. Simpson (1904-1986)
Who has blessed you with their evergreen beauty?
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