For aging gracefully
Blessed are you who have reached
a new age—
even if it doesn’t seem to fit.
It may feel too big. Too reductive.
Too limiting.
It may be marked by a life
you barely recognize.
The kids who have all moved out
or settled somewhere far away.
The work that no longer
sets the daily hum.
The life partner who is gone
and friends you’ve outlived.
The body that doesn’t allow
for the hobby you love anymore.
The monthly check that
doesn’t provide the flexibility
you’d hoped for.
Wasn’t I young just a second ago?
Will I ever recognize the person
staring back in the mirror?
What’s left to do that really counts?
How do I know if I am,
or ever was… enough?
Blessed are you who have lost so
much.
You whose body hurts, and you
who aren’t who you used to be.
You who no longer have
the identity markers that
once defined you so clearly.
You who attend more funerals
than weddings these days.
You who hold your new grandbabies
and have held your dying parents’
hands.
God, give us eyes to notice the ways
life can still be beautiful
and rich and full
in the midst of so much
that has been lost.
Remind us that you
are not done with us yet.
For the God who spoke us into being
calls us even now.
Not to an ideal or a role,
but to a moment. This one.
In a world that equates
age with liability,
it’s time for a reminder
that you are a gift.
You give advice.
You hold on to family recipes.
You remember that thing
that happened and, honestly,
we shouldn’t have forgotten.
You think our kids are beautiful
and our bad partners
should be soundly dumped.
You kept the photo album.
You hold our stories.
Thank you.
Even when the world isn’t paying
attention,
may you get a glimmer of a reminder
that these little things add up
to something that is and always will be
beautiful.
From: The Lives We Actually Have,
100 Blessings for Imperfect Days
Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie pp. 56-57
