Living for the present

THERE are moments in our later years when many of us become more keenly aware of the frailty of our tenure of life. We resent the gradual shutting down of our bodies, and sometimes our brain. We want life to go on as it has always been. We want more years with our spouse, our children and grandchildren; particularly since, with the passing years, these relationships often get better. We want to go on enjoying crimson sunsets, great music, birdsong and flower gardens. Most of us would also love to be around to see greater peace in the world, and people no longer dying of famine.

Although the ageing process involves negatives, such as gradually losing things we treasure, like mobility, hearing, eyesight, memory, mental sharpness and reasonable good looks, there are also positives. Many in their later years undergo a process of re-evaluation. Recall Jesus’ parable about a merchant who spent his life searching for fine pearls, until he finally came across one of such splendour that he sold all the rest to buy it. What a profound parable that is. The pearl the heart really longs for, is not wealth, power or fame, but being fully human, being the person God wants us to be, alive to truth, beauty and the needs of others, and better at controlling our emotions and tongues.

Our acceptance of the ageing process can be a source of relief. I personally would not want to turn the clock back. Nor would I want to know the date of my death, but being 85, and having eight stents in my heart, I am well aware that the end of life’s journey on this earth is not all that far away. My hope is, however, that in the years that are left, I will become better at living for the present, and better at focusing on the things that really matter.

I often find myself asking: “What has my life meant so far, and what can it mean in the time left to me. What have I contributed to the well being of others and the fund of knowledge? Have I left a worthwhile legacy for future generations? Have I loved enough and shared enough? What have I been really worth in God’s sight?”

I take comfort from my faith, that God’s final judgment of me will be weighted heavily on the side of amazing grace, rather than retribution and score-keeping. Though I am well aware that death will get me in the end, I hope that until then, with my diminishing energies, I can go on doing what I can to enrich the lives of family and friends, and those whose needs are much greater than mine.

Life begins, not as some think at 40, but every morning when we wake up. On an expensive reclining chair in a furniture showroom I once saw the sign ‘Enjoy your reclining years’. I personally hope my later years will be characterised not by reclining, but by keeping as fit as I can, by continuing to be as busy as my health allows. I would much prefer to wear out, than rust out.

Far more important than what we expect from life, is what life expects from us. I hope I will go on smiling and laughing. I hope I will also try most days to do something kind for people who do not expect it, for life has taught me that those who do this, those more concerned about giving than getting, get most back, often in mysterious ways.