When Mark Rutland Realized He Was “Old”
The issue is authenticity, not eccentricity, and the key to authenticity is being honest with ourselves. Of course, that is true at any age, but it is especially important as we age. Facing facts is just plain tough to do, but face them we must. I remember the exact moment when I knew I looked old to young people. I had preached the evening service for a very young pastor in Alabama, and his wife and I started down the back steps together when she reached her hand out to take my arm. I realized it was a spontaneous gesture of genuine concern. She was steadying the old guy on the dark stairs, and it was a bit of a shock.
One can do two things in moments such as that. One is to jerk your arm away from such a silly young woman confused enough to think you need help on the stairs. Or you can humble yourself and thank God somebody cares enough to prevent you from breaking your hip. There are different seasons of life. To cling to one that is obviously, manifestly over will make us look ridiculous.
Turn the page. Embrace the journey. It is OK not to be as young as you once were and not to look as young as you once did. It is OK to hold the handrails on the escalator. Holding the handrails does not make you old. Staying alive did that. Holding the handrail makes you smart. It is OK to use earplugs when the music is too loud. It is also OK to wear a hearing aid when voices are too soft. And, by the way, whatever happened to everybody speaking up? When did the whole world decide it was good to whisper all the time? It is not wearing hearing aids that make seniors seem old. What makes us seem old is refusing to wear them and constantly asking everyone to repeat everything.
Never turn down a helping hand. It is prideful and dangerous. The Bible is clear on this. “Pride goes before a broken hip.” I’m pretty sure that’s in there somewhere. Keeping it real means being real about what aging means without being a victim of it. Recently, after giving a speech, I found myself about to jump down from the stage. It was not a height suitable for paragliding. It was just a couple of feet to the main floor. Yet discretion proved the better part of valor, and I walked down to the stairs at the end of the stage. That is not victimhood, and it is not cowardice. It is keeping it real.
To learn more about Mark Rutland’s new book, Keep On Keeping On, visit MyCharismaShop.com