I can’t believe it. I just got called a “senior” by some new young pipsqueak of an associate pastor. I am seriously having a hard time with this. I am in my fifties, for heaven’s sake! I will begrudge you “middle aged”—but am I already a senior?! This is like calling a 30-year-old “past their prime.”
While I cringe at being referred to in this way, it does bring up some questions I don’t hear addressed very often—what does God consider “old age”? How does our role change as we get older? Is there some point at which we stop doing and start complaining how things aren’t as good as in the old days?