The Write 31 Days Challenge-31 Days, Every Day, One Topic
“Hey hon, I’m going down to the pool for a bit and I’m going to find a seat right below our balcony. Will you take a picture of me from up here? Only if I look sorta’ pretty though because I don’t want a picture where I look bad.”
My thinking behind this request was that I know that one day I’ll look back on this picture and think I looked pretty darn good for 62, just like I now look back at 52 and 42 and 32 and realize I looked good then too, even though I didn’t believe it at the time. Is it just me or do some of you have brains that think like mine too?
As I age my body increasingly betrays me. Earlier that same morning I’d taken a run down Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. Well, to be honest, it was more of a walk with an occasional slow jog thrown in because running in sand is hard y’all! What began as an invigorating jaunt became a heavy breathing, hip throbbing, lung burning return trip to the hotel.
I’ve never been super athletic but I try to take care of myself with regular exercise and (mostly) good eating. These last few years – since moving to SC – have marked the first of some unfavorable test scores on my annual physicals.
An internal betrayal of sorts.
So I’m fighting back by upping my commitment to exercise in an effort to avoid the prescription meds they’re hinting that I might consider.
Upon arriving back at the hotel I donned my shirred-at-the-waist-to-hide-a-bulging-midriff bathing suit and headed down to the pool. Ahhh, time to relax in warm salt water and get a little Vitamin D in the process.
Poolside – where my body’s external betrayal becomes evident.
I used to love crepe paper. Bright, multi-colored ribbons strung wall-to-wall meant a celebration. A birthday party for one of my girls or the celebration of new birth at a baby shower.
Now, as the water evaporates off my body I realize that my skin has turned to crepe paper! Crepe paper splashed with coffee stains, a.k.a. age spots.
I remind myself that old bodies are beautiful. Every line, wrinkle, and scar is a reminder that I’ve made it. They are like banners declaring, “I survived.” Like the T-shirt my daughter once had that said, “I made it to the top of the Space Needle,” only better!I have determined that I will not let my ageing body stop me from pursuing God’s purpose for my life. Click To Tweet
So in spite of my complaints about this ageing body, (Dear Lord, I know You created me just the way I am and that You love me this way and I’m trying to love every part of me too) I am happier in this stage of life than I’ve ever been. Happier in myself, in my relationship with God and with other people.
AND, in spite of our rough spots:
Before we dig in to my very un-Hallmark-like story I wanted you to KNOW this, that even hard stories can have happy endings. Or middles in my case, because I know God has so much more ahead. And though my future days may not all be sunrises-over-the-lake-house, or go the way I’d map them out, I will choose to be thankful no matter what.
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