"My" People
I collect "old people". I love them. A great source for love, wisdom… examples of Christ's love. But they leave. Heaven is full of my friends. And more are preparing to to go…my selfish self really doesn't like that reality. I love "my old people", and I am always excited for them to go, because they are perfect and whole, better than ever before. But I am selfish. I want them here where I can see them and touch them and talk to them… hear their voice once more… Really worse than having them gone, is watching them prepare to go. The deterioration of the strong and healthy to weak and feeble absolutely breaks my heart. To see the grace with which so many endure is a true blessing and encouragement. But to see what must be endured, of we remain on this Earth for 80 or 90 or 100 years, is discouraging. I can't tell how many times I've heard,"Don't get old..." believe me, I want to take that advice more than any other advice anyone has eve