One temptation of middle and old age is be frustrated with not being able to do what you once could. Even in middle adulthood, our joints creak, our bodies begin to weaken and things don’t work as well as they used to. But more than the physical, people miss the opportunities that have passed–career, family, and on and on. The older we get and the faster life goes, the more we wish we had another opportunity to do or redo the things from the past.
So what is the point of playing the back nine when it seems like every hole is harder and our game duller? The Psalmist writes:
17 O God, from my youth you have taught me,
and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds.
18 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.
19 Your righteousness, O God,
reaches the high heavens.
You who have done great things,
O God, who is like you?
20 You who have made me see many troubles and calamities
will revive me again;
from the depths of the earth
you will bring me up again.
21 You will increase my greatness
and comfort me again.
He sees the gifts of God still work after decades–from youth God taught him, and he still proclaims His deeds. And what is his hope? To keep doing it, to live long enough to “proclaim your might to another generation” (v18). We are used to hearing about the generation gap, the relational distance between parents and children. But it takes two to drop the baton–the one handing it and the one taking it.
The Psalmist is talking about the hand-off, and he is eager to be around, through all his troubles, with grey, and probably less, hair. His vision is to be faithful and full of hope and to leave that to the young of another generation. This is the greatest inheritance one can hope to leave. From this perspective, old age isn’t our decline but our biggest harvest. The one who sows sparingly will reap the same, but the one who sows abundantly over a lifetime goes out with a bang.