There is a theme in both George MacDonald’s and Tolkien’s works that crops up. It has to do with beautiful youth in age.
Think of all the characters that are “ancient” yet appear youthful.
As we all age, day by day, we see the effects of a fallen world. Death is just the end, but daily our existence reminds us that the good fades away. We are in a spiral towards the end.
God chooses to give us hope, though. He promises eternal health and joy. Anyone that has experienced that indescribable place called Heaven can attest to that eternal bliss.
As I grow older that promise of perfection becomes more dear. I hate seeing the effects of decay and death. It must be endured, but I still hate it.
I’m seeing the decay of winter outside my front door. Spring is nosing in after this bitter, deathly cold we’ve endured. The temps are nudging above freezing.
I’m recovering from a slight cold, headaches, all the ominous symptoms. I took my horse medicine and my tonic water. I’m fine. I’m just a little sad and tired, nursing my red nose.
I guess I’m feeling my old age.
We are still loved, we are still valued. We are still here.
We are waiting for the return of our eternal King, and it cannot be long now.
Endure to the end. Eternity promises to be worth the pain of now.