OUR TIMES ARE IN GOD’S HANDS

The span of our life is seventy years,
perhaps in strength even eighty;
    yet the sum of them is but labor and sorrow,
    for they pass away quickly and we are gone.

Psalm 90:10
Book of Common Prayer, p. 718

If this post begins to sound familiar to some of my regular readers, it’s because I write on this topic every year on or near the time of my birthday. It begins pretty much the same way, almost as if I’m plagiarizing myself.

And as I’ve written before, each year on my birthday, I read Psalm 90 as part of my morning prayers.

In the past decade, I’ve made it a habit of reciting the verse cited above, verse 10, along with verse 12:

So teach us to number our days
that we may apply our hearts to wisdom

I proudly celebrated my 79^th birthday on October 31. Why do I make such a big deal of my birthday? Because never did I imagine I would reach this age.

My father died of a heart attack at 46. The entire year after I turned 46 I was an emotional wreck, thinking that it would be my last year on earth.

I began to seriously ponder what possible reasons God might have had for granting me this additional time on earth. It was that kind of questioning that pointed me in the direction of ordained ministry.

To ease the worries of all the theological sages reading this, I eventually came to realize that is not the way God works. But that was what the mind of this confused, unsophisticated, and as yet biblically untrained person was thinking at the time.

I had a lot of doubts. Why am I still here? What purpose am I serving in this life? What is the meaning of my life going forward? I was wrestling with those queries and more.

So I began reconsidering each year as a gift from God. That eventually led to seminary. It was, however, a circuitous path. I had a lot of prompting along the way, primarily from my pastor who relentlessly kept insisting that I had the gifts for ministry. Like the prophets of old, I put up more than a few objections. But eventually, God won the wrestling match, as God usually does.

And now, here I stand on the threshold of the eighth decade of my life. I perhaps should exercise more, eat healthier, and get more sleep. Yet despite my shortcomings on self-care, and my increasing battle with arthritis, hypertension, and a varied assortment of aches and pains, I still feel I have a youthful outlook on life.

And above all, I am nothing but grateful that our Creator has allowed me to experience some of the greatest joys of my life in the years I have spent in service to God and God’s people.

In his book, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom, John O’Donohue, the Irish priest, poet, philosopher, wrote a reflection on aging. He equates it to the Autumn of our life:

Aging is not merely about the body losing its poise, strength, and self-trust. Aging also invites you to become aware of the sacred circle that shelters your life. Within the harvest circle, you are able to gather lost moments and experiences, bring them together, and hold them as one. In actual fact, if you can come to see aging not as the demise of your body but as the harvest of your soul, you will learn that aging can be a time of great strength and confidence. To understand the harvest of your soul against the background of seasonal rhythm should give you a sense of quiet delight at the arrival of this time in your life. It should give you strength and a sense of how the deeper belonging of your soul-world will be revealed to you.[1]

This passage resonates with me because I do feel that confidence that O’Donohue speaks of. I have been blessed beyond measure and have no sense of anxiety about what the future may hold, no matter how much or how little more time God grants me on this earth. Yes, there are many things I could have done better, but I have few, if any, regrets. I will live the time I have remaining in faithfulness, and a profound sense of assurance of God’s tender care and love,  

In this past year, I’ve become a big proponent of the Book of Common Prayer. Among the prayers in the book is one for birthdays, which is read every Sunday in Episcopal churches when a parishioner celebrates a birthday. Since I worshipped in a Lutheran setting this past Sunday – it was Reformation Day, after all – I wasn’t able to receive this blessing. So I will be shamelessly egotistical and invite you to read it along with me as I bless myself.

O God, our times are in your hand: Look with favor, we pray, on your servant Abraham as he begins another year. Grant that he may grow in wisdom and grace, and strengthen his trust in your goodness all the days of his life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

(BCP, p. 830)

May it ever be so.

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[1] O’Donohue, John. Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom. New York: HarperCollins, 1997. (p. 167-168)