Weightless

It is the eve of my fifty-second year of life…happy birthday to me!
But I’m experiencing a disconcerting phenomenon.

It’s the feeling of weightlessness.

No, I’m not literally floating around like an astronaut. That might actually be cool. I did love all things space when I was a kid. This weightlessness is far from fun. It’s difficult to explain as it is happening on a number of fronts simultaneously.

It’s the feeling when what you do is not as valuable anymore. When you discover that your age and experience are non-essential. When your words are deemed worthless.

Weightless.

To be sure, some of this weight loss program is self inflicted. I’ll own up to that. But some of it is just the way of our culture and the modern world.

I often joke about being an old man, as so many of the folks I work with are so much younger. ‘Papa Georgio’ is a relatively new nickname given to me by all these darn kids. Funnily enough, I am old enough to be the father of most of them.

If you know me, you know how stubborn I am. Old or not, I’ll be playing my guitar until they pry it from my ancient hands. And as I deafen from age, I’ll crank my AC30 amp up even louder.

For culture and convention I could really care less. But to know that your words no longer matter…

For the first time, I really do feel old. I feel the clock hands moving…every grain of sand in the hourglass rolls like an avalanche. You wake up and the day ends in a blur.

It makes you understand just how precious time is, and makes you want to cram as much life as you can into the spaces between heartbeats.

But this pressure brings with it another, different pressure.

The burden of rightness. As much as the clock is ticking away precious time, previous failures temper the desire to rush headlong into the fray. Frustration and anger are balanced by the need to make the rest of this thing count, and to not get ahead of the plans God formed when the world was young.

It’s an odd place to be…floating between fleeting time and the fear of fast forward.

Weightless.

But all I know to do is this:

To trust the Father to keep the world turning, and to lend His weight to my life. The passing days will bear witness to His rightness. I thank the Father for the gift of this day and all the days to come.

I waited patiently for the Lord
He turned to me and heard my cry
He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire
He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand
He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God
Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him

(Psalm 40:1-3 NIV)