I look at the clock and it is twenty-three minutes after
three a.m.. Tramp is lying by my bed and
he has had a barking dream. I drop my
hand down and comfort him. It is amazing
what a pat on the head can do. Tramp and
I are both senior citizens now. Growing old together we have become best of
friends. His eyes are fading and his
hearing is not what it once was. He stays closer than ever, often sleeping in
the doorway so I can’t leave without him knowing. I am not happy about this old age thing.
Sometimes I think of old age as a time when life slowly takes away all it has
given. I have feelings about it that I don’t have words for. I guess it depends on which way we look, looking
back life becomes about what was, looking ahead brings hope for the future--a
time when we will get rid of all the worn out parts and broken dreams, a time
of restoration and best of all reunion.
As long as we are together I will continue to offer my hand to Tramp. He needs me and I will continue to comfort
him as we make this one way journey. I
must confess, I am no thick skinned, mucho man. I cry easy, I rescue turtles
and smell flowers, I bruise easily and I don’t carry a big stick. I confess, I need my Fathers hand, without it
I can’t cope with all the loss. His hand
comforts me when I am afraid. Some of my
friends deny their fear or they live in a place I have never found. In my fears I look for the Hand which can
penetrate the darkness at three twenty three a.m. Like Tramp, I don’t want to be alone. I plan
on staying close to Him. Jfs
Ps 139:5 You have hedged me behind and before, And laid
Your hand upon me.
