All week I’ve been thinking about my pastor – the pastor of my childhood. The man my husband says has been my measure ever since.
He always looked into your eyes – even if you were a child – and LISTENED.
And his smile. It gave – and still gives – a person courage.
Pastor Ted Ekholm
I’ve been thinking about him because if ever there was a man who could “count it all joy” it’s Pastor Ekholm.
Aging and all its attendant trials just seem to make him sweeter. And sweeter is what my husband and I have been aiming at.
The other night we prayed, yet again,
Dear God, we want both to flourish – and bear fruit! – in our old age. We want to be fresh and flourishing and seen as fresh and flourishing so that when people look at us they will know that God is still upright.
We don’t think we can be accused of running from the refining process BUT we haven’t been allowing ourselves to grow sweeter!
Its pretty hard to keep that sweet spirit – but it must be possible. I see it in my pastor. And I want to be like him!
And I take comfort in the benediction he used to pray over us:
Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling,
and to present you faultless
before the presence of his glory
with exceeding joy,
To the only wise God our Saviour,
be glory and majesty, dominion and power,
both now and ever. Amen.