The Great Thing About Middle Age...

So here's the thing...there was a time in my life when my appearance really mattered to me. But it was at a time when my body was largely cooperative. I actually had a full head of hair, and the hair I did have wasn't always trying to grow out of weird places. I could pretty much eat what I liked without adding a spare tire, and I had the energy of a solar panel in the Sahara.

But things change, I've learned. My body doesn't respond as quickly to my brain's commands, and the bounce-back from bursts of bravado is a little slower.

Fortunately, I'm finally starting to figure out that people think about us, talk about us and notice us a lot less than we ever think. I've discovered I can walk into a Starbucks dressed like a dork and really, it doesn't matter. Not only does no one care, I don't think anyone notices.

This came home to me when on vacation last week. I was snorkeling off-shore and found myself blessed with the middle-aged, "Who cares?" freedom. Imagine the scene: me wearing a bright yellow flotation belt (at 20 I would have rather drowned than wear that goofy thing) and feeding my breakfast to the fish multiple times (they enjoyed it more than I did the second time). And even with an audience of a dozen or so folks, I really didn't care. So what?

There are more meaningful implications, which have yet to really kick in for me. The perennial problem for every Christ-follower is the tension between others' acceptance and speaking up. For example, I want to tell my friends and neighbors about the incredibly good and life-changing news that Jesus saves - but I want them to still like and accept me even if they reject my message. My goal is - or needs to be - thinking less and less about how they see me now, versus how they will look at me in eternity. I may succeed at looking cool now, only to be seen an eternal fool  later. Not a happy prospect.

But I'm slow at this, much slower than you'd think, at this point in my life. I still care too much about what others think. My saving thought is this: when I feel like I let God down, I'm reminded that it wasn't my job to hold God up! Which means he has surprising and creative ways of accomplishing his purposes, and even allowing me to be a part of the process. And as I discover the joy of that, how I look and what others think of me will matter less and less.

So midlife may work to my advantage after all. I may even get away with socks in sandals, if only my wife and kids will look the other way!