April 27, 2026
A nice woodstove fire on a chilly morning feels good on my sore back, which might have healed months ago if I was younger. My hand looks old, though I’m merely eighty-one. It’s interesting describing your age. You’ve reached it, attained it, survived to be it, are granted it, have become it. It marks the life you’ve already lived, a sort of merit badge, blessing, or lucky gift. I have surpassed that of my former wife, and many born after me who were lost to disease, accident or combat. We may regard them as somehow unfortunate, maybe cheated of a “proper” lifespan. But we never know how many years on Earth we will be given. In that sense it really is a gift that I am 81, having narrowly missed death several times, including from two cancers.
Why have I been blessed with a long life when many others have not? It’s pointless to wonder. The time that we’ve been given here is temporary, a waystation in an eternal existence. The real question is, what shall we use our time on Earth to do? Learn about the world? Indulge ourselves? Help our family and friends? Benefit humanity?
I view life as a training and testing experience from which we “graduate” into another realm. Seems to me we should be learning about God and Jesus’ expectations of us for joining his realm, his kingdom. That makes any anxiety about having had cancer as missing the point of why I am here at all. I think that it’s to learn how best to love others, especially God, and to live our life according to Jesus’ teachings. And that is despite the challenges that come our way.
