Our oldest grandchild just had his tenth birthday. Our youngest grandchild is now one.

Our oldest son is almost 35. Our youngest son is now 30.

Our middle son and his family finally arrived in the country; we will see them soon. The years and the decades have traveled fast. There appears to be no speed limit on this highway of life.

Me? I’ll be 60 next month. That number sounded old years ago. Now? It’s just a reminder of this rapid race of time.

Days and months and weeks and years and decades hurry by. We age. We change. We work and labor, suddenly noticing how far we’ve traveled. We wait and wonder, unexpectedly realizing results come like surprise gifts. We glance at pictures from the past. We notice our faces in our mirrors.

I remember a 2019 of difficulty. We are all enduring a 2020 of uncertainty. Last year my father-in-law passed away. This year my dad did. During the last year a daughter-in-law lost two babies. We are spending most of our time trying to adjust during this new season of uncertainty. Can we go out to eat? How close can we sit? Is anything secure? What can we learn from one another and how can we love others better?

Many questions. Much uncertainty. Many petitions. Much waiting.

I’m not sure what brings you peace as you reflect on life and death and aging, but the Psalms often provide the medicine for my soul. Give them time. Read them. Read them again. Read them aloud. Listen to them as you hear them read to you. Study them, pray them, sing them, stay with them.

What thoughts come to you as you meditate on the ancient poetic prayers? What images do you see? How would you write them in your own journal entrees? How can God answer those prayers during our own adventures of aging, of hurry, of uncertainty?

Yes, I’ll be 60 in July. But I also hope to be hopeful in July. At peace in the storms. At rest in the hurry. Brave in the mystery. Confident in the confusion. Join me in believing Someone is preparing a table for us all in the midst of our bewildering quest.

Let us sit.

Let us eat.

Let us love one another and invite many to join us at the table.

Let us be at peace.