Thankful Thursday: Twilight and Youth

Working with the elderly has a way of bringing life into focus.

It reminds us of our frailty, of the finiteness of our strength and vigor. It makes some of us fear growing old, others laugh about what kind of a cantankerous old person will be, still others eager for their own twilight years.

I know it has made me think both of the blessedness of my current youth–and my determination to be thankful and content both now and when my youth is gone.

Because there’s nothing worse than being unthankful for a gift when you have it only to be bitter once the gift is gone.

This week I’m thankful…

…for eyes that can see the subtitles on my tv screen.

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. If I couldn’t read, I would be lost. But even should God take my eyesight (and I rather expect that, given my lineage of eye disorders), I will still choose to be thankful

…for ears that can hear the podcast being played from my MP3 player.

I’ve been storing up comments on what I’ve been listening to, intending to someday write posts on items as diverse as the laws of physics, Blaise Pascal’s wager, and dichotomy vs. trichotomy–all sparked by podcasts. I’m so thankful for how my ears have awakened my brain–and kept me awake–on my drives home after dark. But even should God take my hearing, I am thankful that there is a still small voice that can be heard without human ears.

…for a tongue that tastes the spicy heat of Buffalo Chicken Pizza and the sweetness of Ooey-Gooey Caramel Pumpkin Blondie Thingies.

One’s sense of taste diminishes as one ages. As one old lady told me today “It has no flavor and it’s too spicy.” I hated to tell her that the change in her perception of the food over the past three years probably hasn’t been as much about the food as it has been about her taste-buds. Yet even when my taste buds fail, I will be thankful that I can still taste and see that the Lord is good.

…for arms that can reach and bend and lift

I carry what seems like a half dozen bags, between my purse and my “travel bag” and my briefcase and sometimes a bag of books or whatnot. I’m so thankful that my (admittedly weak) arms have the strength to manage my daily activities. But even when my arms fail, I am thankful that there is One whose arms never fail, who holds me there in His unfailing arms.

…for feet that can walk

I’m a walker. I don’t like to talk on the phone if I can just walk down the hall and talk to you face to face. I’d rather not save my steps when carrying charts to a meeting–I’ll take as many trips (heavy-laden) as necessary to avoid having to use a cart. But even youths grow tired and weary. Even young men stumble and fall. But I am thankful that those who wait on the Lord will soar on wings like eagles–even when their legs can no longer hold them.

Here, in the dawn of my life, I will choose to cultivate thankfulness. And someday, when the twilight comes, I pray that I will be thankful in that as well.