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Out To Pastor
One of my grandchildren asked me quite a penetrating question this week. “Grandpa, how old are you?”
Before I was married, I had no problem about always telling the truth. I always got in trouble if I did not tell the truth, so my practice has always been to tell the truth, no matter how difficult it might be or who it might hurt.
After being married for several years, I was presented with a question I was unprepared for. We were going to a banquet and just before leaving the house, my wife looked at me and said, “Does this dress make me look too fat?”
After I got over being stunned by this question posed to me by my wife, a wonderful thought hit me. I looked at her and simply said, “I don’t know about that, but your hair looks beautiful.”
says no, explaining “As historians, we are limited to asking whether Jesus rose bodily from the dead.
Historians cannot answer whether it was God who raised Jesus…” Likewise, the popular atheist, “Oh,” she said with a smile dancing all over her face, “thank you.”
How old am I, really?
I am not sure I can really answer that kind of a question. It all depends upon your definition of old. When I was in my 20s, someone my current age I “how old are you?”
When you have a little person whose age is still in the single digits how do they know anything about age? Most of these little people are most anxious to reach that birthday where their age is double digits. Single digits only last for nine years while double digits last the rest of your life.
This little person looked at me with curiosity all over her face, when a marvelous thought danced into my cranium. I then responded, “Well, I am not as old as your grandma.” For the time being, that satisfied that little slice of curiosity.
I do not know any year I would like to repeat. I certainly do not want to be a teenager again. I remember those teenage years and I was so glad to get out of that age group. My 20s were not any better, except it was during my 20s that I met the person who later became the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. Those were good years.
Then when I got into my 30s, little people started coming into our house. They arrived about 18 to 20 months apart and stopped when the number reached three. Three is a good number.
The roughest thing about having teenagers is that it is payback for when you were a teenager. That is why as a grandpa, I smile benignly as I watch my children trying to parent their teenagers.
David understood this when he wrote, “Now also when I am old and grey-headed, O God, forsake me not; until I have showed thy strength unto this generation, and thy power to everyone that is to come” (Psalms 71:18). I am not old; I am just mature for my age.
Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, PO Box 831313, Ocala, FL 34483. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 1- 866- 552- 2543 or e- mail jamessnyder51@ Gmail. com or the website www. jamessnyderministries.
com.
