I’m in one of those reminiscent moods. I find myself here a lot. Maybe because I’m getting old. Seriously. You know you’re getting old when you lose track of how old you actually are. I turned 33 two months ago but still sometimes think I’m 32. And I had a stark revelation that high school graduation was nearly 15 years ago. It was 20 years ago for my sister-in-law. I panicked slightly when sitting at the table for Thanksgiving dinner and I looked up and saw her senior photo hanging there on the wall like a fossil – her in her blue cap and gown with the letters “Class of 2002” printed under it. Remember back when the media didn’t know if we’d even survive Y2K (also known as the year 2000)? And Elf, one of my favorite movies, is 19. I’m almost as old as Will Ferrell was in that movie. Yikes. I remember being a 14-year-old kid watching it with my best friend in theaters.

Recently, when reading about the Roman Empire and first century Christianity, I found myself more connected to the people of that era than I do to modern day humans. My husband and I dread the day when we have to trade in our beloved 2000 Toyota Tacomas for something that’s “newer” and “safer.” We’re prolonging this as long as possible because we fear having to deal with the technology that comes with all these newer vehicles. Why do you need a back-up camera when you have something called a rear-view mirror? And there’s no logical reason to ever have a screen sticking out of the dashboard to tell you where to go and to play music for you. I remember as a teenager using maps, those printed documents with shapes and compasses and street names on them. I had to use one when I was 16 and ventured out to Virginia Beach to take the SAT on a Saturday morning. I couldn’t find my way in time and so I missed the test, even after phoning a friend (my father). Trying to find the testing site was a test in itself. Thankfully as an adult, I have a decent sense of direction. Back to fancy cars: heated seats are nice but what about coats? I think Richard and I would be better suited to horse and chariot – no buttons to push, no screens or cameras, no Bluetooth device. And maneuvering a horse involves some physical work, which we like. Physical activity is another thing that appears to be antiquated.

I think having a child is what’s going to push us over the edge. That’s something we’re delaying as long as possible, too. We’re going to have to have a vehicle better suited to transferring a small human in a car seat. Truck beds aren’t considered safe for that, nor are extended cabs. So I’m told. We’re not prolonging child-rearing because of fear. I don’t think. Well, maybe I am. Could the best modern medicine really alleviate the pain of labor and childbirth? What if I get some infection and die in the process? This happened in the first century. Even if I survive childbirth, I’m not ready to die. What I mean by this will probably infuriate a lot of women. But this is the main reason I delay having a child. He or she will demand my all. And I’m not ready to give it. Sure I’m 33, but I’m not ready yet to trade in my 9 hours per night of uninterrupted sleep, my job that I enjoy and worked really hard to get, weekends spent doing what I want, and paychecks I spend on toys for myself. I’m simply being honest. Maybe this is a perk of modern medicine – I can wait a little longer. This will also buy me some time to trade in my horse and chariot for a spaceship-looking electric vehicle with a screen that tells me how to schedule my life and where to go. Maybe it’ll somehow help me raise a kid, too.

On the note of kids, I’ve realized via some online surfing (I am modern in this sense – but I don’t have a single social media account; Google is sufficient) that a lot of the people I went to high school with have kids. It’s hard for me to picture this, when I remember my friends as carefree adolescents on the basketball court or in the locker room playing pranks. One of my old friends (who is technically 6 months younger than I am) has 5 kids! At least last time I checked in, which was about three years ago. I ran into her mom when out in the marketplace back when people talked to each other and stood within 6 feet of each other – maskless. COVID sounded like a fictitious scrabble word back then. The fact that my high school friend’s mom recognized me some 11 years after high school makes me think I don’t look that old. Some of my friends have kids that are nearly 10 years old. Old enough to be a king back in the days of the Roman Empire.

Maybe it’s time my throne is usurped. Whether I like it or not, time marches on. One of my favorite lines of Taylor Swift’s is “All the young things line up to take your place.” Yep. At 28 I took a 60-something-year-old doctor’s place and upset his patients when I introduced some newer, by-the-book policies and ways of practicing health care. And the person who comes after me will undo or change what I’ve worked so hard to achieve. Maybe he or she will make it better – via better medicine or fancier technology or advanced research. I hope they do. Time must move on. We must grow up (hear me sobbing here). Elf will likely be replaced by some better Christmas movie, although I can’t imagine this. Rugged pick-up trucks are already being replaced by quieter electric vehicles. Maps are thrown out and GPS systems are installed. The young will replace the old. It makes me happy to see my old high school friends doing well – raising families, teaching, making music, and really, living.

We’re all getting old. The year 3000 might come (Lord willing). Let us who are here live while we are dying. Because we are. As technology and medicine and research advance, I hope we stay human. The Romans invented a lot of the things we take for granted. Because their systems were old and ours are newer doesn’t mean we’re better humans. The roots of human evil are very much the same. The needs of humans are the same. And a great hope is that we are also capable of good and of improvement. As I age and slowly (or quickly?) approach the dust from which I came, I will try to get better. To understand what has been, to be present in the present, and to be ever mindful of those to come. When I do these things, I am attuned to God’s plan – the God who was and is and who I believe is deeply committed to making all things new and to redeeming His wonderful and beloved creation, which we are all (Roman, elf, high school kid, parent, infant, middle-aged, elderly alike) a part of. In this I rejoice. ~