A psalm for growing old

 “David sang to the Lord… when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies.” 2 Samuel 22:1; Psalm 18

My enemies were like the waves of a stormy ocean.
They threatened to overwhelm me:

--my failing body
--the death of loved ones
--a downsizing that seemed to diminish
--loss of my place of service and contribution
--going from limelight to invisibility
--losing my home, my job, my place in line
--not knowing where I fit in my family
--fear of losing my memory, even my personality
--the ever-present approach of death.

But you, O Lord, drew me out of the deep waters,
lifted me from the chaos, lit the darkness,
opened the snares of death that threatened.
You rescued me from the fear
of illness, obscurity, dependence, and loss.

Thank you for getting so angry at the attacks against me
that you thundered, quaked, and stormed!
You terrified them all even as you held me in gentle hands.

The wall of stigma, of being white-headed, wrinkled,
stooped and stupid—look! I just leaped over that wall!
Where did all this juice come from?

Instead of a nursing home, you set me in a spacious place
of beauty. You opened the windows of my heart.
You enlarged my imagination and the scope of my understanding.
You gave me eyes to see. You are my Lamp.

You, O Lord, are my Rock,

--a solid place to stand
--a space of belonging
--a room with a view
--security
--safety
--hope.

The difficulties remain.
I’m growing older, stiffer, less energetic.
I use a walking stick that someday will become a cane,
then a walker and a wheel chair.
One day I may decide to just stay in bed.
Yet you lift me high! You give me courage and hope.
I will not despair.

I will bless you, my Rock, my Lamp, my Redeemer!
I will sing! I will give thanks until the day of my death,
the day of my deliverance, my beginning.

Bless the Lord, O my soul! Let all that is within me
bless his holy name!

(Note: This prayer is based on 2 Samuel 22, also Psalm 18, a psalm David wrote near the end of his life.)