My Old Suitcase

I packed up my troubles in an old suitcase and gave them to my Lord.

He used His good timing to work on the contents, bearing the weight – keeping me safe.

Then in moments of doubt, I take back my old suitcase – checking on the contents, worrying, struggling, staggering under the weight.

All the while my Lord is waiting patiently with his hand held out waiting for me to give Him my trust again.

Then when clarity and faith slowly return, I repack my old suitcase and put it back in my Lord’s strong waiting hands.

Praying not to repeat the process, scared the weakness in me has doomed me to repeat.

How long will His loving hands be there to carry my suitcase – protecting me from the hurt and worries inside?

He promises until the end of time.

He is the Great One, the Patient One – all I have to do is trust.

Meanwhile, my old suitcase makes its all too human, flawed rounds.

Who’s carrying your suitcase?

Lieing About Your Age

As a lot of women I know, I started telling tells about my age on my fortieth birthday.  My particular choice was to start counting backwards, but by using this formula, I'll be thirty this upcoming year.  I'm fairly sure most people will realize that I'm not thirty, or even thirty something.  So, what should I do now?

I'm proposing that we as glorious, experienced women should approach our age a little differently.  I submit that we add 10 years to our ages.  For example, I'm a decent looking 49, BUT I look fantastic for a 60 year old!

There is only so far up you can go without someone considering that you might be either lying or some kind of futuristic cyber clone from the future.  At least I hope that no one would believe that I'm 80.  And if you would, then you my dear reader are no longer my friend!

Claiming you're older than you are will sound familiar to a lot of us, because we spent the last years of our teens claiming to be older.  So, what harm would it do?  You'd get to go to all those cool senior parties at church.  (You know you so want to go!)  You get to order off the senior menu at restaurants.  (Have you ever looked at the senior menu, the prices are great and the portions are right where your waist line needs them!)  You get to die your hair all kinds of truly funky colors, red, blue, pink, purple or black.  (No one ever questions an older woman's hair color.  They just concede that she's old enough to decide on her own hair, after all how much longer will she have it?)  People will believe you have some kind of super anti-aging program, so they'll always be asking you for advice.  (And you can look them in the eye and say, "why nothing, it must just be my genes"!)  And everyone will EXPECT you to have candy in your purse.  (You'll need it to pass along to the kidos, if there's any left!)

The only time I really wanted to tell the truth about my age was when I was between ages 21 and 29.  Before the age of 21, we all want to be "of age".  And then after 29, we all want to be in our twenties.

But how young can you be with a 26-year-old child?  You could lie about his age also, but who's going to believe a man with a goatee is 16?  And why isn't he in school?  No, children's ages can only be adjusted so much.  We could lie and say we don't have any children, but then you don't get any grandchildren.  And believe me they are MUCH more fun than children.  So, you have to keep the children in order to keep the grandchildren.

So, the best choice for me is to round up my age.  The next time you see me, you might comment on how lovely I look for a sixty year old.