SAUCIER — ’Til the end of my days

The Hebrew Scriptures have many takes on aging and death.

There is the story of Enoch, the great grandfather of Noah, who “walked with God, and he was no longer here, for God took him.”

No suffering. No death. Just a “closer walk with thee.” But Enoch was 365 at the time of his heavenly hike, which seems a little unrealistic.

Then there’s Moses, who “was one hundred and twenty years old when he died, yet his eyes were undimmed and his vigor unabated.”

This gets to the heart of the matter. He died, but at a ripe old age, with no obvious physical decline.

Recently, a friend, in his 80s, went looking for a nursing home for him and his wife. She needs skilled nursing. He’s capable of living at home, but he can’t bear to leave her.

Another older friend died earlier this year after spending his last nine months in a relentless downward spiral that ripped away his mobility, his mind and finally his very breath.

Working in Mexico last month, we met an elderly lady, nearly blind, confined to a wheelchair, in a remote village where so much is inaccessible to all, let alone the handicapped.

These are warnings about the condition of the road ahead, and neither modern medicine nor Google Maps has found a viable detour.

As we age, our energy sputters and our senses wither. Our taste buds decrease, our sense of smell diminishes, our hearing dulls — all this isolating us from pleasures of the past.

Memories fade and the chances of dementia increase.

As the years pass, gravity conspires with the grave, pulling us physically — and emotionally — closer and closer to the ground.

I’ve come to believe that death won’t be that hard. Aging is the real test.

How will I accept the likely loss of health when it comes? Will I become bitter as my independence wanes?

Where is God in all this? Patiently waiting for my trial to conclude? Or at my side, guiding me through, pointing out all the blessings and the love that have not abandoned me at my cross?

Isaiah prophesized: “I will be your God throughout your lifetime — until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you.”

I desperately want that, but I fear it’s up to me. I need to actively believe in that now if I’m going to rely on it later.