Wednesday, May 18, 2011

the benefits of never growing up


Although it was only 30 years ago, I have trouble thinking of the seventies as the good old days. Yes, I guess they were good, at least ok, but old, that would make me old, and although it's raining and my joints hurt, I don't think of myself as old. For me there are certain lines of demarcation. Old can be before I got my license, and was unable to ride places. Old can be before I got out of high school, and discovered the freedom of not having to go to school, but still having trouble with the responsibility of going, because you should. Old can be remembering things of my childhood, but not remembering what I had for dinner last night. But old is one of those relative words, not like old relatives, but it has to be compared to something. And so old really become older. Older than the Mets in '69. Older than Viet Nam. Older than the Mets again in '86. And older than Desert Storm. Hope this doesn't make you feel old, and not even older, too.
Brett gave me a sticker years ago, "I REFUSE TO GROW UP!" And I still feel that way. Seems that my age has added years, but somehow avoided maturity. I watch kids playing catch, and I want to, until I remember my rotator cuffs. I watch as my sons are early in their careers, and I think I am too, except my original career is over, and my new one in full time ministry keeps me young. I listen as many young people wonder how they are going to get by, and even though I know how, and why, I still wonder sometimes, how did I make it this far, and what lies ahead? It is the kid in me, always being excited, and still not grown up enough to think I know it all. In fact, the more I learn, the less I find I know. Maybe that is a sign of growing up. I hope not old!
But for me, the line of demarcation in my life was in August of 1975. That is when I became Born Again, and gave my life to Jesus. I can't remember the exact date, but I remember the change in my heart, and its attitude. I remember looking at things differently, and not really knowing why. I remember feeling fresh and new, but didn't know enough about God to even tell anyone. But my heart had changed, and I was excited. An excitement I still enjoy today.
Today I have many friends who study the Bible, prophecy, dates, feasts, festivals, laws, and customs of Jesus. Good for them, because I am not that sophisticated. And I don't want to be. I still enjoy being a child. And to my detractors, I ask they just do what they are commanded to do-love God and then me. Don't ask more of me than God has given. For in my immaturity, I also have this peace, that surpasses their knowledge and understanding. Which can be wrapped up simply in the story of the blind man.
A certain blind man, from birth, was given sight by Jesus. And he went out declaring "I can see, I can see!" And he was known to have been blind from birth, so this was a miracle, to all who saw him. But I like his answer, when asked whether Jesus was good or bad. He simple reply, "all I know is that once I was blind, and now I can see." A simple statement, and that is why I prefer to stay childlike. I just know Jesus. I just trust Jesus. And while I was once blind to Him, now I see Him as the Son of God, who died for my sins. The perfect healer, my savior, and my provider. My best friend. So what kind of question is that, is He good or evil?
My old days proceed Jesus, the good old days in them started the day I let Him into my life. And being able to live in the security that I am already on my eternal road, and soon will enter into heaven with Him. My pain and suffering will be gone, and I will be in the house of the Lord forever.
Is that good or bad? Only if you don't know Jesus would you ask. Let God open the eyes of your heart, and enjoy an infinite amount of good old days that lie ahead. Forever a child of God, coming to Him in a childlike way. I like that.
And still old enough to have my license, to ride, and sit up to take my meals. Yes, these are the good old days.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com