In life there often comes a time
When brain and body are not friends.
In years gone by life hummed like rhyme
Beginnings begat accomplished ends.
As birthdays mount they take their toll
On one’s ability to cope.
Ignoring that is like fool’s gold;
True joy is in our “blessed hope.”
At this point one can make the choice
To strain and struggle, or to think,
“What will I do with dampened voice?
It’s time to rise and not to sink!”
Engulfed with favor up ‘til now,
A fool I’d be to frown, complain.
Secure in knowing God knows how,
I opt to trust in Jesus’ name.
Far greater is the cross they bear,
Courageous friends and valiant kin.
One day we’ll gather in the air
With bodies free of death and sin.
So until then my goal is this:
To love much more and strain much less,
To shadow Liz with hugs and kiss,
To use my strength to pray, to bless.
Copyright © 2022. George Toles. All Rights Reserved.