What Squirts Out When You Squeeze The Old Woman?

Heh. Read further and you'll understand that title.

Lately, my memory has been awful. I'm hoping it's due to interrupted sleep patterns and good old-fashioned pre-menopause, both which I've read can have an influence.

I mean, I hate it when Tom says something like, "I gave you the tickets days ago." And then I say, "No, you didn't! I'm positive you did not."

"Oh yes I did!"

"Oh no you didn't!"

And then we discover, that yes, he did give me the tickets. They were in the drawer all the time. Razzle frats.

So that has me thinking: what kind of an old lady will I be? Will I be a crabby, sneering old thing without a memory, one who snaps, sputters and pops with indignation if you cross me?

Or will I be a gentle, sweet old soul, who may have lost her mind, but not her manners? Who may not remember your name, but who remembers to be nice?

Obviously, I hope it will be the latter. 

I've watched others grow old and seen that, whatever their heart was most full of during their adult years, that is what intensifies. Usually.

And in order for me to be that kind, elderly woman in the future? I must allow God to rid me of the junk inside me--now--in my present. 

If the crabby, always-must-be-right garbage is taken out today, then most likely, I'll still be without it in the decades ahead. I've seen that when God does a work, He does it well, completely, and what remains is that I continue my obedience and cooperation, relying upon Him. His strength, not mine. His patience, not mine.

So the work continues--and I hope when this old lady is squeezed in the future, sweetness will gush out of her, not bitter.


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"...for out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks..." Luke 6:45

"Does a fountain send forth at the same place sweet water and bitter?" ... James 3:11