My granddaughters say I’m old. After all, I do have gray hair, and I did turn sixty-two on Tuesday.
That might sound old, but I don’t think I’m old — definitely not as old as I thought a sixty-two-year-old would feel when I was in my twenties and thirties . . and forties. . . and fifties.
But I am old enough to agree with David when he says, in Psalm 37, “I have been young, and now am old ; yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.”
God is faithful. He doesn’t forsake His children.
That means any energy I’ve invested in worrying during the past sixty-two years has been a complete waste of time — and an insult to God’s great love and grace.
By His grace, I am in Christ. He is not going to forsake His Son, so He’s not going to forsake me.
He will always be there, ready to give more grace, more strength, more wisdom, more forgiveness, right at the time they are needed — just as He has been for the first 22,647 days of my life.
Father, help me to remember this. Help me to truly trust You, resting secure in Your love and faithfulness, drinking deeply from the well of Your grace.