I Demand a Reasonable Explanation!

I am waiting on test results right now. "If the results are positive, it could be..." Do you know the drill?

Some annoying health issues have popped up -- issues I attributed to my aging carcass maturing form. "If this is my 'new normal' I want no parts of it," I recall saying. It turns out I might be in luck -- this collective of maladies might be caused by a real live health issue; not aging. "That's much more like it," I thought; "I knew there was a reasonable explanation!"

What's truly unreasonable is, I am preferring the option of managing a lifelong condition over the inevitable norm of aging. Now, I'm not actually praying for bad results, but I've been asking for an "answer". What if the answer is, I'm just getting old? What's my problem with aging?

Well, I love my truck. If I sat in my driveway each day with my truck idling I would put "miles" on the engine and use fuel, but I'd be going nowhere. I would never experience the enjoyment of cruising down the road and discovering new places; all that wear and tear would be without purpose. I feel like that now. I'm aging; I'm well on my way to crepey skin, cataracts, incontinence, thinning hair, forgetfulness, brittle bones, and unchecked flatulence. But, though I'm old enough to hurt and old enough to be tired, I'm not old enough to benefit from it. I can't retire; I can't do what I want; I can't even get my 10% at Chili's! I am in "age limbo." Just like my idling truck, there are plenty of "miles" but I haven't gone anywhere! I'm fourteen all over again -- too old to play with the little kids, but not old enough to play with the big kids. It's awkward, and uncomfortable, and I'm not liking it one bit.

But here's the thing -- it's not about me. Whether I'm fifty-three or twenty-three or eighty-three, this is all just a block on the calendar, a dot on the map. It's my life lived in and through and by and for Christ that holds significance. Without Christ I am nothing more than a deteriorating corpse. He is my life, and He gives whatever this aging body is going through meaning. My purpose or worth is not measured by the number of miles I've traveled, but Whose call I was following; and whether He leads me down the quiet road of age spots and orthopedic shoes, or a chronic condition, He will bring me through it. He is my strength when I am aching from age or aching from poor health; He is my fortress when I am weary from old age or weary from poor health. He is my comfort when I am in limbo or in crisis.

By demanding "some reasonable explanation" or purpose for my problems, I am saying, "I can do this as long as there's some good reason for it;" but I am not meant to do anything other than surrender to what God wills. It is not my job to endure it or establish a purpose for it. What do I even know about good and bad? In point of fact, I may never know why He's taking me down this road, or He's got me idling in the drive. The "why" is of little consequence as long as I am leaning on the One who carries me so completely.