Think of this…a wrinkle is God’s way of saying he loves you enough to let you keep on going, and a reminder that he is there with you. A wrinkle is proof that yes, even fools like me can keep chugging along with God’s help.
Wrinkles remind me that there’s more to life than what I look like. They remind me that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that sometimes my opinion isn’t the one that counts – when my husband tells me I’m beautiful, he’s right. (And when someone disagrees with him, they’re right too!) I need a lot of lessons in humility, and I find the crow’s feet that are sinking in around my eyes and the little imperfections on my face to be just that: a reminder about my call to humility.
Some of my favorite people are covered in wrinkles, like my gran. Of course, when I’m 78, I hope I am too. Yes, I said “hope.” I cherish every wrinkle on Gran’s face, every piece of evidence that she’s been there and done that, still with a smile on her face. As a hopeless romantic, I hope there’s a young person someday who looks at me with the same admiration, who loves the wrinkles and the wisdom I might have, who hugs me with the unconditional love that perhaps old age appreciations best.
There are worse things than wrinkles. I think of the people who have not had a long life, who have not had a chance to learn their lessons the hard way. A trip to Children’s Hospital is the cure to any aversion I might have had to wrinkles; seeing those brave kids, suffering and smiling, is enough to make me forget all about what’s under my eyes.
Are there wrinkles in heaven? I sure hope so!