Today, is my 43rd birthday. I don't feel old until I really start to think about it. A wise pastor once told me, "Steven, you never 'feel' old. In your mind you always feel young. It's just that when you're old your body won't let you do what you used to do. You'll feel the effects of aging."
Wow, was he ever correct. I never paid attention to the messages my body sent until I reached 40. Then, things started creaking and popping. Not quite the melody of a snap-crackle-pop commercial. In spite of the cacophony, I still feel young.
My dad sent me a box of stuff for my birthday. He always sends interesting gifts as I have come to realize that he puts a lot of thought into the purchases. I try to not take them for granted. For instance, my dad sent me another commemorative knife collection as part of my birthday this year. My dad knows I love knives.
It made me think of an adventure I had when I was a young minister. When I lived in San Jose, I accompanied a mentor pastor to the home of an elderly couple from the church. Our purpose was good ole visitation, which seems to be a lost art in today's frenzied pace of life.
As we made small talk, this 80 year old (or so) man fished into his pocket and produced a pocket knife. He deftly handed it to me and said, "What do you think of my knife."
"Wow," I replied, "that's cool." Or something similarly juvenile.
I'll never forget his next words: "Yep, I don't much care for a man who doesn't carry a pocket knife."
I cringed, since I knew I didn't have a knife and I was pretty sure my mentor pastor didn't either.
As I write this, the newest pocket knife in my collection is present and accounted for...right here in my pocket.