I’m in a fetal position in my warm bed, resting, waiting in the dark; not unlike the first nine months of my existence in mother’s womb. When it’s time to emerge from my bed, I stumble to the bathroom sink where the overhead light makes me squint like a newborn babe. But an AARP woman looks back at me from the mirror.
Do I feel another year older?
No, just another day older. Although lately, I feel like I’m going through an age spurt.
I cringe at my reflection, the naked face before I paint it with mascara and under eye concealer. I pull my cheeks towards my temples, erasing the lines, tightening the pores; and wish someone would invent flesh-colored staples.
Remember being a pimple-faced teen and the school boy who called me “ugly.” Decades later, I don’t feel any lovelier, but the cosmetic industry has thrived promising me, and a million other women, the “perfect face.” Who invented mirrors?
And let’s not even talk about the pull of gravity on my body. A Burka would be a nice addition to my ward robe, but I don’t look good in black.
But enough of that! No use bemoaning the inevitability of age.
I touch the crow’s feet next to my eyes and thank God for laughter. I trace the lips that planted a thousand kisses on my loved ones, the eyes able to see God’s wonders. I even bless the bump on the bride of my nose that caused my younger brother to call me ‘Barbra Streisand’ while we were growing up. It’s all good…….
“I will give thanks to God, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” (Psalm 139:14)
It’s my birthday, and I refuse to read the article that pops up on my AOL news, “Secrets to Staying Slim at Your Age,” I kid you not!
Instead, I meet with my creator, the omnipotent One who weaved me in my mother’s womb. The omniscient One who knows the days that “were ordained for me,” the omnipresent One who loves me with an everlasting love.
I turn the dog-eared pages of my Bible and see my history unfold like a diary. There’s the tear-stained calendar dates written in the margins, next to scripture that nourished me in hard times and gave me hope. I see the small hearts drawn next to words that exemplified God’s character. Notice the tiny handwritten notes and underlined verses made during sermons.
It’s my birthday, and I am happy knowing: “Since my youth, O God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds. Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come.” (Psalm 71:17, 18)