My Days are Numbered

It’s hard enough turning sixty-something this year without receiving cheerful fliers entitled, “Assisted Living Facilities Near You!” Like, that’s a good thing? What next- a glossy flier touting, “Come see our Creme de la Cremation” facilities?
Not to say there aren’t real blessings that come with age, which I’d recount to you right now if my thoughts hadn’t just disappeared into thin hair, along with all the important documents I remember for sure putting in a very safe place.
I imagine the moment I leave the prison of this body, and walk the corridor to freedom, a smirking demon will be forced to return my long lost car keys with one final dig, “What’s the big deal- she couldn’t remember where she parked anyway.”


Until then, I’m gonna chuck- or at least file in my very safe place- the ads to join AARP (the answer is still NO), the fliers advertising discounted funeral services. What does “discounted” mean- I get rolled in bubble wrap and laid in a brown Amazon box, with the bar code carefully blacked out?

I might dabble in miracle cures for horrid age spots, body-part firmers (sung to the tune, “Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro…”) and plantar fasciitis arch supports, But I’m sorry- I draw the line on some things: we have no intention of visiting Viagra Falls.

Maybe I’m looking at this all wrong. Perhaps these are memos from heaven, sent to help me consider these truths:

“You also must be ready all the time, for the Son of Man will come when you least expect”. Luke 12:40

“LORD, help me know how brief my time on earth will be, remind me that my days are numbered- how fleeting my life”. Psalm 39:4

“If only they were wise and would understand this and discern what their end will be!” Duet. 32:29

Lord, Thank you for mirrors, reminding me to make the most of every opportunity. May I reflect You as I deflect the notion of having all the time in the world, and live for what really counts: eternity.

(I need this reminder, as yesterday I forgot my age).

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