Feeling Young

I haven't discovered the fountain of youth, but I have discovered a way to feel young!  In my younger days, it seemed I was usually among the youngest in my circle of influence.  I was a young mother, and young grandma, but as life has continued to move along, there are two generations of mothers now younger than myself!  Although I am believing the Psalm that speaks of my youth being renewed, my chronological age is certainly not going backward, and seems to be gaining momentum.

Actually, I am thrilled to be the age I am and finally comfortable in my own skin.  I don't have a crowd surrounding me in agreement, but that's okay, I'm not seeking popularity or human approval.  Although my skin feels alright, actually with my natural products, I think it feels better than alright, I am aware that I'm aging.  Sometimes as I walk around the homestead, I talk to myself, reminding myself that if Messiah tarries, I still want to be doing this twenty-five years from now.  In that same breath, however; I also tell myself, this place needs some young blood.

In the last few weeks, more than one person, right around 50 made a comment indicating they saw 57 as considerably older . . .  Whether it's 50 or 57, we're in our 50s!  The "zero" years have never bothered me, but a friend told me, they'd never bothered her either, until 60.  YHWH willing, I have big plans for 60 and I don't plan on it including any misery about my age.  Sixty is the new age marker for old or young.  It used to be forty.  Folks were a young forty or an old forty.

Since it seems to take so long now to even get started in independent adulthood, forty just doesn't seem so old.  From the time I was 12, I looked forward to forty, and it was fabulous!  Forty and 41 were absolutely great, then at 47, I started homesteading.  The lull between 41 and 47 wasn't horrible, just aware that more was to come.  Fifty was good, but nothing like I expected, then more lull until I was 55.  To be honest, there were a few rough years between 47 and 55, but it as it turns out, I proved the following adage.

 The last two years have been better than I would have imagined.  Although I should probably now be able to bench-press a Buick, I don't carry extra baggage, just extra weight.  There was only one potentially negative aspect of turning 55.  In this country, for some insane reason, 55 is considered a senior citizen.  My hair has been grey for so long, I've probably been getting a senior discount without even knowing it.  Actually, now that I'm eligible for the senior discount, I can express my disdain in it.  Young families trying to raise children and put food on the table should not have to pay more than someone else.  It's just not right.  Although there is much talk of "fixed incomes" the reality in observation is seniors and teen-agers have the most expendable cash flow.  Even though many American seniors are living comfortably, most grocery stores offer a senior discount day.

Most folks between 55 and 65 are still in the work force, so the daytime hours of senior discount day, primarily consist of those over 65.  Being self employed, I've now discovered a double portion blessing in senior discount day!  First, the money I save, I can actually donate to a worthy cause and second, as I look around at my fellow shoppers that day, I feel young!  As a matter of fact, early afternoon in the grocery store on senior discount day is about the only place I'm still one of the youngest.

Divine Intervention

As most of you know, I don't leave the place often, but when I do I have a list in hand!  This past Wednesday was business day in town.  Preferably, town day goes as planned, which is as quickly and efficiently as possible.  Mr. B was acting strangely that day, so I really wasn't looking forward to being trapped in the buggy with him for several hours.  I even gave consideration to "setting the tone," but Abba let me know He would not be pleased with that idea, so I opted for obedience.  In the time getting to town, I really thought about the choice I made.  What good would it have done to let Mr. B know he was being annoying?  When I have told him, in the past, he basically just shrugs his shoulders or tells me how it's my fault, which totally annoys me, further.  Why open the door for that?

So, the trip to town was efficient, and much was accomplished in less time than I thought it would take!  HalleluYah!  In traveling through town, making nine stops, there was only one close call in traffic, which is a good driving day for Mr. B.  There were three stops left to make and it wasn't really all that late.  Nine stops sounds like a lot, but in reality it's just a few minutes in several places, as I make business calls as well as take care of personal matters in the same trip.  It actually looked like we'd make it home before chore time was looming!  With earlier dark hours and colder temps, I don't like to push the envelope when it comes to evening chore time.  Perhaps if I didn't pack so many stops into a trip to town, they wouldn't be so dreaded, but then they'd have to be more frequent, so this present plan works pretty well.  This trip to town had more stops than usual.

As the afternoon was unfolding, the day seemed to be quite efficient, as I stopped at the Green Dollar Tree.  I don't really know the name of the store, but everything's a dollar.  As I got to the front of the store to  checkout, a woman was standing there with a basket.  I asked her if she was in line and she said, "No, I lost my keys."  Another woman was with her, and I of course jumped in with all the usual questions.  Have you retraced your steps?  Did you leave them in the car?  Yada . . . yada.  She was sure of all the places her keys could not be.  I prayed and went ahead and checked out.  I really wanted Abba to show me where her keys were.  She assured me that she'd already been out to her car and they weren't there, and she was simply going to call her son.  With that, I headed out with my purchases.

While placing the sacks in the buggy, I heard Abba tell me He'd take me to her keys.  I wasn't sure whether I should get in the vehicle or walk back to the store.  Mr. B. started the buggy.  As I got in, I heard "the keys were in her car," so I asked Mr. B if he'd please drive me over by her car.  I was thinking they had probably fallen into the floorboard as she was getting out.  I stepped up to peer in the driver's side window and couldn't really see the entire driver's side floorboard from that vantage point.   I walked around to the passenger window to get a full view of the floorboard on the driver's side.

 To my utter delight, the keys were in the ignition.  Since she'd told me she'd locked her car, I didn't try the door, I went to tell her, her keys were found.  It was then, she looked so surprised and told me she could only lock her car with her key from the outside.  To that I responded, "Answered prayer!"

We all walked out to the parking lot, I opened her door, and she along with the woman who was "helping her" shared a moment of rejoicing in the Father's goodness and giving Him glory.  Even in that extra time, the other two stops were efficient, and there was plenty of time before dark.  There has been a recurring thought since that day.  I can't help but think, if I'd have made the other choice at the beginning of the trip to town in dealing with Mr. B, that I probably wouldn't have heard Abba at all.