If I volunteer at the local Food Bank, I give of my time and energy. If I make a donation to the Cancer Society, I offer a portion of my wealth. When I babysit my grandkids, I present my heart. Over and over again, we extend aspects of our lives to the urgencies around us. We are accustomed to doling out fragments of our lives. We give what we can, but usually hold something in reserve.

More Canadians are becoming seniors. In a few fleeting years 25% of our population will be over 65. And they will live longer than seniors lived before them. Many dread it. Society has us convinced that getting older is a curse. So, we try to cream away our wrinkles, comb over our bald spots and worry whether our health and money will last as long as we do. Is this how we want to walk into our senior years: laden with fears and clinging to yesterday? 

I was having a dark day. The reasons for it were varied; but they joined hands to encircle me with gloom. Hope was a wish – a feeble wish propped up by a dry theology. Like other times throughout the years, I tried to find relief from my heaviness through the Psalms. I grasped at them, hungry for something – anything to feed my soul.