64...

As of 8/23, I'm now 64. Cue the Paul McCartney tune...

How does it feel to be 64? A year older than did 63, I guess. My 87-year-old mother freaks out at the thought of me being 64, but really, it's no big deal. I do a better job of remembering the even years, so it should be easier to recall, when asked, "How old are you?" I feel bad that my Dad didn't get to see my 64th year. I feel worse, realizing that my next youngest brother will be 60 in October. Next year we will celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Apollo moon landing, and I remember it like it was yesterday. Why, then, can't I remember my cell phone number and stare like a blinded trout when asked? McCartney said that turning 64 and hearing his own song about it being played was kind of a depressing moment. While I had nothing to do with his song, I can say that turning 64 really didn't bother me in the least. Turning 40 did...

I was on the pastoral staff at St. Paul's when I turned 40. For whatever reason, it really freaked me out. Maybe it was the echos of Jack Weinberg whispering in my ear, "Don't trust anyone over 30" or just the idea that I was 40, but whatever it was, the degree to which it bothered me really snuck up on me unawares. Thanks to that sudden and unexpected trauma, I went to the ancient, pre-Google font of knowledge, the Shaler Public Library. By using a prehistoric search engine called a card catalog, I found a book called Seasons of Man's Life by Daniel Levinson. Through interviews with men over 40, Levinson exposed five developmental stages in our lives. (I should note that some of this work has been updated to include women as well, whose own "mid-life crisis" has been spurred on by mainstreaming into all areas of adult careers and leadership.) Turning 40 apparently triggered a kind of mid-life crisis in me. It provoked a sermon, which, in turn, brought several others into my counseling office--other men who knew something weird was going on with themselves, but didn't have the foggiest as to what. My angst because a good thing, as it were.

Honestly, my mid-life crisis was kind of a tempest in a teapot. Once I got beyond the initial shock of being 40, and Levinson's insights, things settled down. I never cheated on my wife or got a wandering eye, but had an opposite reaction, which as Levinson pointed out some men do, meaning that I about went nuts "re-pursuing" my dear wife, trying to convince her afresh that she didn't make a huge mistake. I think it scared the daylights out of her. I'm still doing it, by the way. Oh, and I didn't buy my red sports car for years (maybe I'm stuck in mid-life crisis mode?). Levinson's book was a great help. One day my wife informed me that she had returned it to the Shaler Library, and I gasped: "Oh no, I had made a lot of pencil notes in the margins and didn't get to erase them!" I hate when that happens in a book I pick up to read.

A funny story: A few years later, and in another church I was serving, a man came to me for counseling with fears he was losing his mind. Deducing rather quickly it was probably a job for Levinson, I prescribed that he read Seasons of a Man's Life and come back in to talk about it as soon as he had. Two weeks later, the fellow came in all aglow that the book had been a watershed for him, too. Furthermore, he said that the copy he acquired had some "very helpful notes" someone had written in the margins." I asked to see his book--he had gotten it through the inter-library lending service, and sure enough, it was from the Shaler Library! I love it when a good plan comes together...

64, huh? I'm not worried. You know that "time thing" whereby the older you get, time seems to slip by much faster? That's happening, so I expect that before I get this blog out of my mind, it will be time for 65. That one may get me--Medicare...MEDICARE! (Unless You-Know-Who finds a way to kill it.) When I turned 50, I immediately joined the AARP--after all, I've never had someone lobbying for me until then! And I really like their magazine. Medicare is different. That's like saying, "Happy Birthday! Here's your ticket to geezer healthcare!" We'll see how that goes. Oh, and by the way, my lovely wife, Dara, has had none of these age-related "crises" happen to her. None. The forty-thing bothered her brother more than it did her ("My little sister is forty!") I guess she has her hands full with me.

You may be thinking, "This guy's a pastor--where is the spirituality in this blog?" Well, my short answer would be that life is a gift, and that we are thankful for whatever days we have here. I'm blessed to be starting my 65th year. I have had family members, friends, and many parishioners who never got this far. However, most of these people lived thankful, blessed lives, even though their earthly days were shorter than all of us had hoped. I am exceedingly thankful for the days I have, and I pray you are, too. I know that Christ walks with me in this journey, and that, as trite as that little Footprints poem is, it is as true as the rain--there have been times in my life when I know that God is carrying me, and I'll bet that is true for you, too. None of us knows what we face as we live out our days here, but in this, I have to say that the song Bill and Gloria Gaither wrote about Jesus and us holds true:

Because he lives, I can face tomorrow;
Because he lives, all fear is gone;
Because I know he holds the future,
And life is worth the living just because he lives.

Now go out and kick it. Shalom, Yinz...