"Let it be our unceasing prayer that as we grow older we may not grow colder in the ways of God," said good George Muller. Some do. The enthusiasm of their earlier years flees away, and they become jaded in their affections, stale in their thoughts, indifferent towards everything. The sense of wonder is gone and they have no longer any interest. All things are full of weariness--all is vanity and vexation of spirit. They have given up the idea of going any further or learning anything more. "What do you do all day, Uncle Jimmy?" "Just sit and think and sit and think--and sometimes I just sit," answered Uncle Jimmy. That's getting old, in the bad sense of the word--ceasing to live before we die.

      God has something better than that for His saints. That same George Muller, above quoted, lived up into the late nineties--always bright, full of interest, hopeful, joyful. In his last years he would often stop in the midst of his conversation to exclaim, "Oh, I'm so happy!" And it was not mere mannerism, nor was it feigned. "As we advance in years," he had written long before, "let us not decline in spiritual power; but let us see to it that an increase of spiritual vigor and energy [335] be found in us, that our last days may be our best days . . . Let the remaining days of our earthly pilgrimage be spent in an ever-increasing, earnest consecration." So indeed it was with him, and so it should be with all God's people. "The devil has no happy old men," it has been said. But those who are the Lord's increase in joy.

      The writer of Psalm 71 entered upon his old age with trepidation and fear. He had enemies who watched for the first signs of failing strength and first symptoms of decrepitude, who would rejoice at the day that would see him disabled, that they might make him their prey. And the day seemed not far away. But the psalmist carries his anxiety to the Lord. "In thee, O Jehovah, do I take refuge--let me never be put to shame . . . Be thou to me a rock of habitation whereunto I may continually resort . . . For thou art my hope, O Lord Jehovah; my trust from my youth. By thee have I been held up from the womb . . . I am as a wonder unto many, but thou art my strong refuge."

      Then follows the burden of his heart: "Cast me not off in the time of old age, forsake me not when my strength faileth . . . Yea, even when I am old and grayheaded, O God, forsake me not, until I have declared thy strength to the next generation." He ever looked to God for better things: "I will hope continually, and will praise thee yet more and more . . . Increase thou my greatness and turn again and comfort me."

      "The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree," he says elsewhere . . . they shall bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be full of sap and green; to show that Jehovah is upright: he is my rock and there is no unrighteousness in Him" (Ps. 92:12-15).

[GO 335-336.]

      The electronic version of R. H. Boll's "Growing Old" has been produced from the 90th Anniversary Issue of The Word and Work, Vol. 92, No. 11 (November-December 1998), pp. 335-336. The essay is reprinted from its earlier appearance in the magazine, Vol. 30 (November 1936), pp. 209-210. Thanks to Alex V. Wilson, Editor of Word and Work, for permission to publish the essay as an electronic text.

      Pagination in the electronic version has been represented by placing the page number in brackets following the last complete word on the printed page. Inconsistencies in spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and typography have been retained.

      Addenda and corrigenda are earnestly solicited.

Ernie Stefanik
Derry, PA

Created 1 October 2000.
Updated 21 June 2003.