What is important?

I was going to write a post about how I never thought I'd say I was getting old until I was at least 50 - but I recently starting saying that I'm getting old.

I was going to joke about how a teenager was surprised that I could text, because in her world, old people can't text. And I was going to go on to state that another teenager thought my 11 year old nephew was my son. My son! 11 years old! I would have had to give birth to him at 15 - you do the math. I was going to just chalk it up to them being teenagers.

I was going to tell you that not only is my vision less than perfect and my hearing at a point where I need to watch lips when people speak to me, but also that I am going gray left and right - well really only right...right in this tiny spot on the right side of my head, just right there, it's weird.

I was going to tell you how out of touch I am and how disgusted I am at some of the music kids today are listening to. I was going to tell you all this, but now it just all seems so...so...whatever.

All I have in life,

given to me by my God.

Only Christ matters.

Everything I do,

means nothing in life, but for

that done for my God.

(Up until a few weeks ago I was passionately against Haikus. I believed they were dumb. I thought there was no reason for their existence. A friend in high school used to write them, and I thought they were dumb. But I read this the other day. And now I like them.)