Reflections on a Reunion
Few things can remind you of the passing of time and its effects on you like attending one’s 50th high school reunion. I had that experience two weeks ago, and I’m still getting over it—not in a bad way, but in a lot of other ways, each a unique blessing.
One way was to rediscover the goodness of reacquainting with friends from the past who were truly friends. These were the people you looked forward to seeing in class, at lunch, in school activities, and outside of school. It was a blessing from God that many (although not all) of these people attended, and we had the opportunity to spend time together, both before the reunion and at the event itself. Because my family left the area when I graduated, I had only seen two of these friends in the 50 years since our graduation, and had lost contact with many of them before the advent of cheap phone calls, the internet, email, and social media put some of them back in touch. I went to university out of state, and then moved across the country, meaning “losing touch” was going to happen. Now, I was face-to-face, sitting down together and hearing the highlights of their lives for the last half century. We’ve lived all over the country and the world. Almost all of them were retired, although not all of us (one is a regular commentator on economic outlooks on national broadcasts that I’ve seen on TV). Many told of spouses not in attendance, children and grandchildren (so did I). The furthest came from Namibia. Others came from down the street. The time flew by, and my heart was full of good memories and thankfulness for these friends.
Another blessing was that I got to talk about the life of ministry I have had. That had been my desire in high school, and now it was my testimony. Perhaps because of this, I was asked to offer an opening prayer for our gathering. Afterwards, many who were not known to me as believers in Jesus gave testimony of his grace while we were together.
Still another blessing, although a little bittersweet, was seeing what time and life had done to us! We are still here, but we are OLD! While many were clearly recognizable, I was thrilled for the foresight of a classmate who prepared name tags with our Senior pictures on them! Gray hair was the norm, and no hair could be seen on some of the guys who’d had the glorious long hair of the 70s. Walkers, canes, and hearing aids were in attendance. We still see ourselves and each other in memory, not in reality. The good news was that, as we began to talk, we discovered that those old bodies still contained the same sweet, funny, and sharp people we remembered, often polished by the wisdom and experience of age. I hope that was true for me! Advancing years can slow our bodies, but it need not rob us of curiosity, excitement, kindness, or finding meaning in serving God and others. I saw some good examples of that in our gathering.
Let me share one other “blessing” that was sobering. We remembered our classmates who are no longer among us. Our graduating class of 185 had around 100 in attendance. However, over 40 of our number have passed away. A memorial tribute showed us each one, along with their birth and death dates. All of us left high school thinking we had long lives ahead of us. We should have taken more careful note of the four classmates who’d died in car wrecks while we were still in school. But we didn’t. That evening, we learned that some of those not in attendance were battling cancers or other health challenges even now. The psalmist’s words came to mind as I was driving to my hotel afterwards:
“Our lives last seventy years or, if we are strong, eighty years. Even the best of them are struggle and sorrow; indeed, they pass quickly and we fly away.” (Ps. 90:10)
In high school, those numbers seemed both distant and old. Now they are neither. As I’m approaching those age markers, the text offers a wise response. It isn’t what others may choose: a new diet, or plastic surgery, or more exercise, or meditation—though some of these might be helpful in the moment. It isn’t panic, either. Instead, it is a prayer:
“Teach us to number our days carefully
so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts.” (Ps. 90:12)
No matter how many days I have left, I want to make the most of them. That begins with seeing each one as precious and as a gift from the Lord of life, and then to use them in ways that matter to their Giver. And when I’m not sure of the wisest course, I can always ask for help— “Now if any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God—who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly—and it will be given to him (James 1:5).”
It’s less than 2 years to the “Psalm 90 Window.” Lord willing, I’ll get there, and then some. My prayer is that I’ll use these days so well that they make this the most effective and fruitful season of life yet.
