I'm getting older as I get older

As we were making dinner I decided to turn on iTunes Radio station Peter, Paul, and Mary. It struck a chord with me (yes, pun intended). I started singing along to songs I knew and some I didn't. The Kingston Trio came on, and I found I really resonated with the simple folk songs of the 1960s.

It occurred to me and I even said it out loud to my wife: I'm getting older as I get older. That is to say, my tastes are de-progressing. I'm finding it true my own hairstyle and clothing. I've embraced my wavy hair instead of chopping it all off. Not only that, but I noticed a 1987 BMW 7 Series for sale on Algonquin Road - "make an offer". What's going on? (Don't worry, I'm too frugal to waste money on that).

Of course, I'm just old enough to know when a mid-life crisis hits. I thought it hit two years ago. Perhaps it did. However, I've sensed a greater need for nostalgia and a sense of the past. One can try to analyze these things. However, it's deeply personal and has a hint of sadness attached to it. While I have a strong biblical theology that settles my heart on the assurances of Christ, I still find how vulnerable I am to reminiscing. 

While it's not all sad, I think a recent trigger was when a high school marching band video clip was posted. It was 29 years ago and was right near the point that a lovely girl had lost her life just shy of 17. Aimee Colleen Thompson was a smart and beautiful young woman. She was driving home with her sister, Allison and her cousin Stacy when a tragic accident took their lives. I have generally kept to myself just how deeply I cared for Aimee. For a moment I thought she was in the video. I couldn't really tell. I decided to do a Google search for "Aimee Thompson Mainland" (that's the high school). I was floored to see the funeral notice in the local paper with her picture. 

This technology where old music can be piped in also offered a window to the past--a powerfully personal past. I sometimes don't know what to think about it. I make my living by technology. Yet there are days I long to divest of this digital wardrobe and embrace a simpler, older life. But it's not available to me except in my memories. This can be a trap. 

It is best to see God's purpose in the progress of time. Perhaps I will find ways to simplify my life. There's also nothing wrong with a little nostalgia. Yet the promise of the realized kingdom of Christ awaits fulfillment, and will be content to look forward and live in the assurance of such a grand finale to history -- and a resolution of my personal pain.