What Value The Wisdom of Years?
London, England. 2006
This poem was a lament. We were part of a large organisation in the UK and had just had an annual conference and it was supposed to be about growth in the organisation but through all the discussions the common thread was all about the youth, and having the touth running things. This was not just at the conference, it carried on into the weekly meetings until it got to the stage that more than a few of the older people felt quite side-lined, even made to feel valueless, past their use by date. Many though had years of valuable experience and knowledge, but no platform to share that wisdom was made available. Community groups were now being run by teenagers or young adults who had so little life experience they could not deal with the issues some people came along with. It really seemed to them the wisdom of years had no value.
My path draws me on towards the evening of life.
More than a half century’s passed under my feet
And for home and family I have done what was meet.
Years gained wisdom, knowledge at heart
and of the body, I am also a part
The House is vibrant and more than alive.
With its heart and direction I fully agree
but amongst all of this is there no place for me?
For I am not past it, not stodgy and boring
but where is my generation’s calling?
I see the old preacher, so good on the stage.
But he’s lead a church for many a year
or in missions his call has been very clear.
No problem for him to participate
his credentials see him in through the gate.
But I was not called to that office from youth.
Work was my lot for family and wife
a job and career, a busy old life.
Hers was not the ministries cup
she cared for her children and raised them up.
Or I only got saved much later in life.
Never knowing this world existed for years
till I called on Jesus through my tears.
I may be older than most in the Church
but heart is renewed, my desires given birth.
But where is the honour for all those years?
Now that I am older am I just a shell
have I no wisdom, no story to tell?
I could wait on tables or look after the kids
but is that all I’m good for in a box with a lid?
Am I to be just ignored or the subject of jokes?
Of walkers and sticks and boring old songs
to wait in queues when I’ve waited so long?
Is that all that’s left for this life on this earth
are we excluded by the year of our birth?
Why no mention of us is no relevance here?
Is there no value placed on all of those years?
No respect for overcoming challenges and fears?
Understanding discovered from the lesson of life
which can be imparted to others in strife.
There is so much in me that I want to give out.
I still have the passion, the dreams in my heart
to be a changer of nations to make history at last.
Do I still have a mission, still have a chance
is my summer over, or can I still join the dance?