I took a photograph of a wooden chair, weathering on an open porch and plummeted daily by winds full of salt air.
Like the metal hardware rusting in the salty air that chair was showing signs of aging. The chair had, at one time, been painted white. But after years of being exposed to nature’s forces only traces of paint remained like freckles on a sun kissed face.
The wood beneath the paint had faded to a medium shade of gray and with those remaining paint spots I thought how much that reminded me of salt and pepper hair on middle aged folks.
With all the weathering and aging that the chair had been through it was still a sturdy seat. It was, after all nature’s abuse, able to provide support for a rather large and heavy adult who needed to rest.
It seems that the beauty of a newly painted chair was gone but the inner strength of the wood was as viable as ever. The appearance of the wood had changed but it had retained the strength that it had always possessed.
What about us?
Will we retain our inner strength as we age?
Will our resolve to be strong survive nature’s forces?
Will our strength provide support for others?
For me that chair became food for thought. There it was, aged, weathered and yet still a strong support for others.
I can certainly hope for the same in my own life.