Hope for Gray Hair

You looked in the mirror and saw a face different from the one you remembered. Your hands don't hold things the way they used to, and your body is charging a price your mind still won't accept. Growing older is frightening, especially in a culture that only celebrates the new.

I want to remind you of a promise few people repeat: I don't abandon anyone in old age. On the contrary, I promise to carry you, the way someone carries a child in their arms. The same arms that held you up in your youth are still strong now — you may just need them in a different way.

Your life doesn't lose value because your body changes. The gray hair you try to hide, or that bothers you in the mirror, is, in my eyes, the crown of a life well lived. I still have purpose for this season — prayers only you know how to pray, stories only you know how to tell, a place in the family that only you fill.