Ah, youth is wasted on the wrong people.
Clearing off my desk today I came across something passed along by my grandmother. It was printed on the back of her friend's funeral program. According to Grandma, "This poem was a 'Dear Abby' column that Edie had handwritten & put into the back of her Bible."
I found it noteworthy and hope you will as well.Prayer for the Aged
Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older, and will someday be old.
Keep me from getting talkative and particularly from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every occasion.
Release me from the craving to try to straighten out everybody's affairs.
Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details - give me wings to get to the point.
I ask for grace enough to listen to the tales of others' pains. Help me to endure them with patience.
But seal my lips on my own aches and pains - they are increasing, and my love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.
Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally it is possible that I may be mistaken.
Keep me reasonably sweet. I do not want to be a saint; some of them are so hard to live with. But a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.
Make me thoughtful, but not moody; helpful, but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it at all - but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.
- Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding in length of days. -Job 12:12 (ESV)
- "You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the Lord." -Lev 19:32 (ESV)