On Getting Old … er

me on left - age 13

This is a repost from yesterday’s blog – I hope this is a little easier to read!

I remember getting old a long time ago.  I had gone to youth camp to visit with the kids.  I went looking for my brother’s then girlfriend, (now his wife) who was a camp counselor and was told I could find her in the girls’ dorm.  When I got there I found it difficult to get into the dorm because it was one of the several times I was sporting an ankle to thigh cast.  Seeing one of the girls at the door I asked her to get Heather for me.  A few minutes later Heather appeared with a puzzled look on her face.  “Oh, it’s you” she said.  “The camper told me an old lady wanted to see me”.    I was in my early twenties.
I was enjoying a meal with a missionary family and some of their visitors at Kericho.  A young man seemed to take an interest in me plying me with all kinds of questions.  I began the story of how (and when) I began my missionary career.  His face became clouded as he began to realize how old I must be – he thought I was 18!  I was at least 42.
Age is a number! 
And by God’s  grace I celebrate another decade.  I must have been a fighter (my mother said I cried a lot as a baby) because I only weighed 2lb9oz. when I was born.  I didn’t stay tiny for long!
For sure, God had a purpose for me!   Through the active time of childhood and the tumultuous time of youth I was always conscious of God’s call on my life to serve him.  I remember how excited I was when our youth group travelled to Perth for a youth event.Just imagine all the way to Perth from Kingston.
I can’t walk like I used to when I was in Congo but surely God continues to give me strength for each day.  For the most part, I am in good health.  What I do is by God’s grace.
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