And Not to Yield

 

And Not to Yield
By Alfred Tennyson                                                                            

Old age hath yet his honor and his toil:

Death closes all: but something ere the end,

Some work of nobel note may yet be done…

Though much is taken, much abides; and though

We are not no that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are.

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, bu t strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

The sprint of life.

I watch  runners as they pour on new found energy during the last lap of the race. They fall across the finish line in exhilarated exhaustion. I suppose Alred Tennyson has it right. As we turn the corner of our last years, some energy propels us forward  for there is yet much to do. The race is not done.

There is so much of life yet to experience, knowledge yet to accumulate, wisdom yet to be gained. There are tasks yet to be completed that only I can do.  And I often joke that I’m still wondering what I’ll be when I grow up. And I expect I’ll ask St. Peter the same question when I meet him at Heaven’s gate.

Though the bones ache and putting in a seven hour day at work makes me ready for bed at 8:00pm, it’s exciting to know that God is not done with me until He calls me home.