Just the other day I was impressed with the idea that the man I have become on the outside, is not really a true picture of the man I am on the inside. A look in the mirror in the morning will tell me, if I choose to believe what I am seeing through a cultural filter, that the signs of aging I see reflected back at me are not all that attractive.

There are lines where there used to be smooth skin and my overall complexion is one of a man who has seen his share of beaches and outdoor activities. I am not complaining mind you—simply stating a fact. And the fact is that if I were to keep this image in front of me—this image of who I am becoming—I might never get out of bed again.

Long ago I decided for my own benefit that I would allow myself one viewing in the morning in order to comb my hair and make sure that I hadn't turned into some space creature overnight. I would ignore the prompts to look in store windows as I passed just to make sure I was still looking good. I would rely on the mental image of myself to be my guide during my daily interactions with family and  co-workers and friends. And this philosophy has served me well. Even though I am 58 I still hold an image of a 30 year old inside my mind's eye of who I am. I know this is somehow unbalanced in a certain sort of way but I can't really see a downside to this thought process at present.

So you can readily see that to come to grips with the aging process is a big step in this particular passage of my life. Part of who I am is wrapped up in who I think you see when you look at me. Not that I consider myself a Brad Pitt sort of fellow—more like a High Grant everyday person. I am influenced by the culture that surrounds me almost as much as I am influenced by the eternal word of God. Maybe more sometimes.

In Ecclesiastes 3:11 I read—He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.

I know somehow that when my heavenly Father looks at me he doesn't focus on the temporal me, that guy who I see in the mirror every morning. He sees me through the lens of Jesus and the potential that is stored up in me.

As my wife and I discussed the subject of getting older the other evening, she concluded that I ought to put my energy into honing my spiritual gifts rather than into trying to figure this whole aging thing out.
And she is probably right—whether or not I am able to articulate my feelings about the signs of getting older and all that probably is just another rabbit chase. The aging process is going to continue despite all the thought I choose to allocate to it.

And I guess that is partly the point of bringing it up in the first place—to work through it and move on—not get stuck in the middle somewhere. What really matters is not what I look like in relation to what the world says is beautiful and lovely but what I know in my heart is true.

A friend of mine is into creating slide shows for families to show at funeral services. We have all seen these presentations and as we see the pictures of a person's life flash upon a screen we do not remember so much what they looked like at any particular point in their life but what they did with life in general and who they touched or what they meant to us.

In other words, when the slide show is over and every one goes home, it will be our deeds that are remembered and not what we looked like at any particular point in our lives. I can live with that and the notion that my excitement about life and my relationships with my family, friends and a most holy heavenly Father are what really count.