Borrowed Truths

My Hands

my hands
Borrowed Truths

My Hands

When I look down, as I pen these letters to you, I see my grandfather’s hands, not the hands of his own making of course, but the memory of his that I now see holding this pen. The grinders have begun to cease, the keepers are beginning to shake, (Eccl. 12:3) and if I did not look in the mirror at least occasionally, I would not recognize the face that stares back at me.

There is a saying that I need to recall at times, those times when I forget that many decades are behind me, “Sometimes it is better to remember doing a thing, than it is to attempt to do it again.” We age, there is no way around it, the body begins to wear out, to break down, and then ceases to function altogether, it will happen to almost all people, but how we approach it is a different matter altogether.

“The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness.” (Prov. 16:31) The last part of that verse many do not like to hear, for it questions their faith, and if there is one individual who does not enjoy having his faith in Christ questioned, it is the grey headed older man who has attended a religious organization for the majority of his life. I have met so many over the years who will, even when shown the truths of the Scriptures, deny the power therein, they become hard hearted. Perhaps they were stubborn in their youth, perhaps they have achieved a certain position within the church, and to move on or to even question the doctrinal theology of that place that they have attended for so long would be viewed as detrimental to the status symbol they believe they have become. Whatever the reason, most generally they will not alter the path they are on even when they know it to be incorrect.

One may look at the last years of Solomon’s life as an example. David saw this truth, “Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth.” (Psalm 71:9) The man of war could not even keep himself warm, (1 Kings 1:2) his own men of valor requested that he remain at home for fear of losing him in the battle, (2 Sam. 21:17) even one of his own sons Absalom, saw the weakness of age beginning to creep into the life of the warrior, poet, king. The man after God’s own heart (Acts 13:22) was preparing to meet his God as many men who were once strong and virile do, on their backs, too weak to get out of bed.

My grandfather’s hands at the end of my own arms remind me of my own mortality, and I do not believe that anyone of any younger age can completely understand this analogy, it must be experienced, and it is a blessing to be able to do so, for this is the point in a man’s life where he will either succumb to despair or see that approaching final day with great joy and anticipation.

Dread is the word that is most used by those of this age not saved by the grace of God, dread and fear, but they will not voice it to others, in fact, when the words appear on the screen of their own mind, they rebuke them, for not only do they remind them that their finest days, in their minds, are over, but that they are no longer useful to society, their day in the sun is over. “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (1 Cor. 15:55)

Gone, that fear in the man of God has been removed, the inevitable that most fear is looked towards with anticipation for the man of God, not because his old, tired body will be renewed, not because pain will be forever banished from the new glorified body that the Lord will give to him, not even because he knows that this death will be the only death he will ever experience, but because of Christ, because he knows that all of the promises are true. Beyond our faults, beyond the life of sin that we lived before, and many times during our walk with the Lord, in the greatest humility, the man of God who can say with Paul, “I have fought a good fight,” (2 Tim. 4:7) does not fear death or meeting his Lord.

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