Seventy.

Seventy.

 Why are you so formidable?

      Forbidding. 

   Frightening.

Forty 

Fifty 

Sixty came with joy, 

                                and dreams, 

                                                and anticipation.  

Never capitulating to old 

    or down

                or less.

They were fun. 

Fantastic. 

Sensational.

Seventy?

Why do you cause me to pause—to finally say-

The last part.

The last part begs to know if the other part mattered. If it was well spent.   If it has placed Seventy in its proper place for the 4^th quarter

Seventy.

Who are you?

  Stripped of profession.

 Devoid of partner. 

 Lost dreams of that perfect fit body. 

  A pile of lists that never happened 

And dreams never dreamt.

Seventy. 

Out on a teeter totter waving gently back and forth on the center balance. Which way to go?

I know I won’t head for a chair.

I do want to learn living in the moment.

I feel the first 69 were like a freight train—I do not want to be on that train—rushing full steam down a track of to do lists and things needed.

I fear too often that train ran over those I loved.

        I mourn that.

Father- Seventy?   

I hear you say ripe for the picking. 

Sweet and full but still on the vine. 

Still more to come. More sweetness more wine.

 Alive and glowing

Help me to be that choice fruit in your hand.  Let me cling to the Vine. Let me grow sweet

 and full 

and beautiful. 

Let me grow in the cool mountain air of Your Presence and the warm sunshine of Your love. 

 Let me linger to hear Your humming as You tend the vine. 

Let my heart be in tune. 

Yours.

Seventy.

Let it be-

Totally alive

Sold out. 

 My ear to Your chest following the drum beat of your heart.

Not thinking-when I get this done there will be time to live

   love

         and enjoy.

 But to live

 love 

and enjoy- 

even while doing, for the doing must not stop or I will be in that rocking chair. 

Nay!!  Doing while fully being—that is the key.

Seventy.  

We’ve got this, my Father and I.  

Seventy. 

Free of any chains

 weights 

  excuses-

Here, Daddy. 

Here. 

I am. 

Yours. 

 Send me, Pour me out— then fill me again.

Seventy.

Super and sold out.

Seventy.

Securely in the heart and adventure of my great King- my Daddy.

Seventy?  

Fourth Quarter, here we come!