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March 1, 2017
Way of Life Literature, P.O. Box 610368, Port Huron, MI 48061
866-295-4143, fbns@wayoflife.org
866-295-4143, fbns@wayoflife.org
“They shall still bring forth fruit in old age” (Psalm 42:14).
Old age, physically considered, is a condition replete with calamities. It is the imperfection of childhood, with the addition of many positive and peculiar evils. The tent is sunburnt and weather-beaten, and ready to be laid aside as useless. The mansion God's chief earthly workmanship is in decay, and on the eve of absolute desolation. It is the winter of life; her vitalities are chilled and frozen; the bones have become earth, the muscles are ossified, and the whole natural man is sinking into mortality. The sun shines with as much splendour as ever, and the creation teems with as many beauties as ever, but they have no charm for the aged: the evil days have come upon them, and the years have drawn nigh in which they say, we have no pleasure.
Old age, intellectually considered, is full of instruction. The mental manifestations have undergone a mighty revolution. The intellect is under an eclipse; wit, accustomed to sparkle in bright coruscations, is apparently dead; the memory, formerly distinguished for vigour and tenacity, has visibly failed, and the creations of genius are no more. Has the soul then grown aged? Is the mind itself afflicted with infirmity? No: simple spirituality can never be essentially impaired. The mind is still full of vitality and power, it is immortally young. It is still a splendour only it occupies the centre of a cloud. The medium of its revelations is deteriorated. The corporeal organizations will not admit of its coming forth in its usual glories. The musician is as skilful as ever, but the instrument is out of tune: the workman is as clever as ever, but his tools are blunt and worn out; and the artist is as ingenious as ever, but he conducts his operations in a murky light. FULL ARTICLE HERE:
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