I’m looking at my great-grandson. Tears form because he’ll never ride behind me on my motorcycle, we’ll never dive into the St. John River together, or gaze at the Allagash Falls while sitting on a ledge. In addition, he’ll not listen to me tell stories like an Irishman. He won’t be asking me questions about where Gardners came from or how I came to date his great-grandmother. He won’t be helping his great-grandmother cook bread. He won’t be borrowing my Tacoma for the summer to do his internship. He’ll know nothing about my life before Christ, nor will I be waiting for his calls to know how he’s doing.
Time to consider signing off and letting time have its way with another generation. I’m glad another life is coming because this one hurts at times.
Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet to be created may praise the Lord:
So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim Your might to another generation, Your power to all those to come.
Give it some careful consideration.
Gary