So I was flipping through photos when I found this one.
I mean, I have absolutely no reason to begin thinking about this now, but this picture made me.
I had no choice.
This is my fantasy as an elderly man.
-------------------I'm (hopefully) going to be that guy at that bench one day.
I'll have my wife of a million years beside me under my arm, looking out at the world and finally be content in stopping. My skin will be weathered and wrinkled and my hair and my eyes blurred, but still blue. People will see life in my wrinkles.
And I will know exactly what love is.
I'll be able to answer my grand children's questions of:
"What did you used to do when you were younger?"
"How did you meet grandma?"
"Grandpa, what do your tattoos mean?"
I'll be a bottomless vat of stories.
And when the time comes to stand before God, when I'm up there shuffling my feet, recollecting how I was planning to explain everything, He'll stop me and tell me I did alright.
Posts
2 think:
i'd like a similar bench.
what do we have if not our future? i think that gives you all the reason in the world.
tattoos, eh? i'd like to hear the stories behind those...both elapsed and anticipated.
i've read this again and again. it still makes me happy.
i played djembe during worship this past Sunday, and my pastor stopped and said, "I sense that God is smiling. I feel as though He is saying 'Well done.'"
that was pretty great.
(sorry to excite you with the '2 comments.' it's just me.)
Post a Comment