With age comes wisdom, right? – though I suppose foolishness finds its home even in the graying crowd. Deepening creases. Slightest sagging? These are a source of chagrin for me. The gift I relish? Perspective.
In putting rooms back together after getting new carpet, I discovered a poetry book that I had forgotten I’d ordered (gulp… more chagrin): Coming to Age: Growing Older With Poetry, edited by Mary Ann Hoberman and Carolyn Hopley. As they note in their introduction,
“Coming to age suggests something other,
an arrival rather than a departure….
This last period of our lives can be many things.
It can be a time of harvesting,
of gathering together the various strands of our past
and weaving them into a coherent fabric.
It can also be a new beginning,
an exploration of the unknown.”
What does all/any of this have to do with this month’s prompt:
Words we fall back on?
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, S.J. was a Jesuit priest and paleontologist. His passion was exploring evolution and faith. His prayer Patient Trust is a wonderful reminder and comfort that we are always growing, always on the way:
“…as though you could be today what time … will make of you tomorrow.”
Time and again, I remind myself: all the choices, the joys, the sorrows – are one tiny rib on a grosgrain ribbon that is my life unfolding. This for me is perspective. I am not the same person I was five years ago. And I won’t be the same person in five years. Remembering this feels like permission to make mistakes, to look without regret at choices and paths. It helps me understand that the story of my life is not over yet. Even now, God is not finished with me.
“We plant the seeds that one day will grow.”
Another prayer of my heart: “We plant the seeds that one day will grow.” –long attributed to, and mis-named, “The Prayer of Oscar Romero” (the link above explains its origins). These are fall-back words when I let in fear and anxiety about what the future holds. When I fear that I made mistakes raising my children; when I am anxious about where their lives are heading; when I wonder what kind of world I am leaving to my grandkids, I repeat this prayer, knowing so much is beyond my control. The best I can do is plant seeds; water them; and then leave the rest to others, and to God.
Which leads me to perhaps my favorite passage from the New Testament:
“And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time.”
(Matt.28:20)
Always.
Even in this time of doubt and questioning, I cling to this assurance that I am not alone. Even now.
The promise overwhelms me! From the one who loved like no other on earth, to those he loved most dearly. He would never leave them. He assured them of his abiding presence and encouraged them to go forward.
So, forward I go. Coming to age. Seed-planting. In patient trust.
Karen gave us our prompt this month. Click on her name to read a beautiful reflection on the power of words. And then dip into the comments that follow her reflection and you will find a treasury of other thoughts about
words we fall back on!
Patricia Franz is a kidlit writer and published poet. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Patricia, so many words and thoughts to love in your post.
“Coming to age” seems a wonderful phrase to ponder at this stage of my life. The poem you shared is significant because it has my OLW for this year, gather!
“It can be a time of harvesting,
of gathering together the various strands of our past
and weaving them into a coherent fabric.”
And finally, your reflection on Matthew 28:20 includes another of my OLWs, abide. “He assured them of his abiding presence and encouraged them to go forward.”
Wonderful words, wondrous writing!
Wow does this post hit home for me, to me, with me…right between my graying eyebrows. I had to laugh at a comment my husband threw out in a silly argument we were having…you’re not the person I married! Well, that’s true. I am not…and neither is he. Decades and children and joy and grief leave their marks on a person. I am different…it’s OK. God is yet with me. Amen. Thank you, Patricia.
Patricia: Thank you for this beautiful post. I think I am a little further along in the aging process, and yet I still hope I am planting a few seeds. For sure, I am still praying. Trusting even as I doubt. God is with us, that is a needed reminder. Thank you again.
Patricia, thank you for your inspiring words. I know I am not the person I was years ago nor would I want to be that person today. With God we are never alone. What a comforting thought.
I love this because as I ponder God and my faith I have to give myself permission to change and grow like a seed and yes that God is not done with me either! Instead of being anxious about the next five years from now … I am going to sit and be hopeful for what is next !
Patricia, I am sorry that it took me so long to read your post but reading it now before bedtime fills my heart with joy. Statements like:Remembering this feels like permission to make mistakes, to look without regret at choices and paths. It helps me understand that the story of my life is not over yet. Even now, God is not finished with me. with me.” Today, I made a slight mistake and now I want to move on. Patient trust is needed. Thank you for words to fall back on.
I’m glad the words echoed for you. 🙂
I would really like to explore Pierre Teilhard de Chardin more. I read a wonderful essay about him by Annie Dillard. Thanks for your post!
Thank you, Ruth. Yes, de Chardin was a fascinating man: priest, poet, and paleontologist – well, I suppose you could add philosopher, and theologian, and…
🙂
That comment was from Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com