Last week I read a post by fellow blogger Linda Lee on Wrinkles. It go me to thinking about wrinkles in general and my own furrows in particular.
Young people don’t think about wrinkles because they have none. They have no wrinkles because they haven’t lived long enough to have experienced the stuff that causes wrinkles. (My apologies to those who had troubled childhoods. I can relate.) It is life that makes wrinkles; happy lines around the eyes and mouth from the joys, and deep furrows of the brow from too much thinking and sorrow. Couples long-married have watched each other change from smooth-faced lovers to life partners with creased and lined countenances (Fifty-seven years for me and my wife).
In addition to the contoured roadmap etched on my face by eight decades of life, there are several scars owing to my reckless youth and my latter poor sense of spatial relationships. Finally there’s the daily insult of strap marks on my cheeks from the CPAP mask I’m forced to wear at night so that I don’t expire prematurely from failing to breathe.
So I consider my wrinkles to be like chevrons on the sleeve of an old Army Sergeant’s uniform; symbols of a long tour of duty. I choose to celebrate, rather than mourn, the deep lines that life has carved into my face. My heavenly Father has known me and cared for me since before I was even born. He has carried me through all the “dangers, toils, and snares” of my experience. He has kept me in the faith, wept with me over the sorrows, disciplined me in my rebellious wanderings, led me along interesting and unknown paths, and preserved me for these many long years.
God gave me work to do and the means to do it with. He’s placed people in my path to fill the empty holes left by my childhood. He has given me a family to love: wife, children, grandchildren. He has joined me to His great family on earth, the church. And He has promised to one day bring me home, wrinkles and all.
“… even to your old age I am he,
and to gray hairs I will carry you.
I have made, and I will bear;
I will carry and will save.”
Isaiah 46:4 (ESV)
Robert Frohlich 
I’m getting there Robert. A wrinkle denier so far. I have so far avoided having a flat nose from a frying pan, which is a good thing from seeing 5 generation photos from the past.
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I love that verse from Isaiah. God loves us through and through. Wishing you and your wife of fifty-seven years a very Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Well, you’re still one handsome guy, even with wrinkles.
“As a beauty I’m not a great star; there are others much fairer by far.
But my face, I don’t mind it because I’m behind it. Tis the folks in the front that I jar.”
By Isaac Asimov 🤠
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Also aging gratefully!
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“like chevrons on the sleeve of an old Army Sergeant’s uniform” … It’s a picture that will stick with me, Robert. I just found your blog and am so grateful I did … and that you are writing … what a blessing.
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I love this! The old wrinkled face I see in the mirror may soon have added lines from a CPAP machine. I had a sleep study a couple of nights ago to determine if I have sleep apnea. Oh, the joys of growing older! Blessings, and thank you for the mention. 😀
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I’ve used a CPAP for about ten years. It was easy to adapt to, and the new lines on the cheek are nothing compared to the forty plus heart-stopping episodes of apnea per hour I suffered without it.
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Another great, thought-provoking post, Robert. Congratulations on such a long marriage. Such is becoming increasingly rare in these days of quick marriages (if any marriage at all) and quick separations and divorces. My wife and I have a ways to go before we reach that point, being at only 46 years, but Lord willing we’ll persevere! Keep on sharing these spiritual insights from common things.
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Robert,
I can certainly relate to the wrinkle fest happening in our home. Momo is blessed with good skin and only a few well-placed furrows. I have a few, but my darn facial skin is sagging. I now have the beginnings of the dreaded “jowl” disease. Momo tried duck tape, which left a residue and gave me a rash, then super glue, which resulted in a trip to the Emergency clinic, so I have accepted the curse. My grandfather, an old West Texas farmer had a face wrinkle for every plowed furrow that didn’t produce a crop. He died a wrinkled-up mess, but he loved his hard life. I too use a CPAP, which I returned to the mfgr because of a recall. Now, my wife stands guard to assure I don’t check out and wake up dead. Great stories, and glad I found your blog.
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