This article was already in the works, when a couple of confirmations unfolded throughout this week. I bought a goat last week. She is an interesting addition to my herd, but even more so, dealing with her through the purchase made me so very aware of the privilege I've been granted. Then a couple of younger ladies in social media were discussing the dangers of chemicals in hair dye, I chimed in, one thing led to another, and I posted a photo that resulted in many chiming in. I really enjoy my long silver locks. I hadn't realized how it has enhanced, not my appearance so much, as my presence!
The young couple who sold me the goat were a delight, probably just a few years older than my eldest granddaughter. This goat was not exactly a calm creature, and they'd sold her kid the day before, so she was desperately needing to be milked. I knew she'd be a handful by myself, so I asked if I could go ahead and milk her out while I was there. The young bearded gentleman graciously agreed to that, so within two minutes, I had her by the horns, and he was going to milk her. It was then, that he just stopped and looked me directly in the eyes and said he would feel better if he was the one wrestling her to hold her still. We changed places, his wife offered to get me a milking stool. I declined her kind offer. I realize this all sounds probably rather mundane or even boring, but it was just nice to be treated so courteously, and well, not old, but respected.
When I was younger, my open friendliness with men was often misunderstood. I didn't realize it at the time, though. I knew the difference between being friendly and flirting, and I only tried flirting a couple of times. I was terrible at it! I haven't even considered being flirtatious since I became a believer, although there were still times, my friendliness was misinterpreted. In my fiftieth year, it all changed! I'm guessing it changed before that, but I was in such a miserable relationship, I didn't think anyone even looked at me. My year of jubilee had an extra bonus. I had been a grandma for years, but suddenly, it seemed everyone viewed me as a matriarchal figure. A woman with silver hair that says, "y'all" can call everyone "Sugar" and nobody takes offense or makes advances . . .
I can be friendly, gentlemen can be friendly, and there's no need to be presumptuous. The folks in my age group and circle of influence are busy sharing photos of grandchildren and speaking of practical matters and things of spiritual significance. We can joke and we can be serious and we can simply appreciate the goodness of our Heavenly Father. Younger men treat me with such respect, like a mom, a grandma, or an auntie, depending upon their age and stage in life. And as for the disrespectful folks, reaping and sowing catches up with everyone . . .
Not everyone gets to enjoy their fifties. Many don't even see their fifties. And not everyone gets to enjoy the silver privilege. In one of the conversations on social media, there was a hair stylist participating, so I asked her the going price of a dye job . . . Her quote was the same price I paid for the milk goat. A dye job lasts 6-8 weeks. This new girl will be giving milk for months, YHWH willing; produce offspring, and more milk.
Being blessed with gray hair feels like being wrapped in the book of Proverbs. I am so thankful for the silver privilege!
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