막내 장가 보내고 떨이 턱을 한다고 가까이 계신 목사님 사모님 두 가정과 함께 집에서 저녁을 먹었습니다.떨이 턱은 핑계고 만나보고 싶고, 나눌 말씀들도 있으셨나 봅니다. 한 분 사모님이 큰 며느리가 아기를 가졌다는 얘기서부터 또 다른 분은 스마트 폰에 있는 손주들 사진을 꺼내어 자랑하기 시작했습니다. 그 쪽으로 이야기가 흘러가는 것을 보니 우리가 꽤 나이를 먹었나 봅니다. 그러잖아도 사모님이 그러시네요. “나만 결혼하면 숙제를 다 하는 줄 알았던 시절이 정말 엊그제 같은데 벌써 자식들 결혼 시켜야지요, 손주도 봐야지요, 참 숙제가 많습니다.”
그러게 말입니다. 며칠 전에 오신 선교사님도 그런 말씀을 하셨습니다. “요즈음은 목사님들을 보면 다 동생 같다고….” 예전에 우리가 삼십대 한창 젊을 때에 남아공화국에서 만난 어떤 은퇴 교수님 말씀이 생각납니다. “나는 나이를 먹었다고 생각하지 않았는데 어느 날 보니까 군인들과 경찰들이 다 동생 같더라고. 그래서 ‘아! 내가 나이를 꽤 먹었구나’ 생각했지. 그런데 좀 더 있으니까 목사들이다 동생 같데. 그런데 조금 더 있으니까 교수들과 상원의원들이 다 아들들 같은 거야. 그제서야 ‘아! 내가 나이를 먹어도 상당히 먹었구나’라고 생각했지.” 예, 누군가 그러더라고요. 사람은 죽을 때까지 자기가 이팔청춘인 줄 안다고요.
요즈음 뉴스를 듣다보면 아나운서가 서슴지 않고 ‘60세 노인이’ 어쩌고저쩌고 한단 말입니다. ‘60세 노인이라니! 벌써? 노인은 팔십 세 쯤 되어야 노인이 아닌가?’ 이런 생각이 60대 중반인 제 마음에 들었습니다. 하긴 내가 이십대에 는 오십 살만 되어도 노인이라고 생각했었지요. 뿐만 아닙니다. 이미 수년 전에 지리산에 갔을 때 장터목 대피소에서 남편 약을 갖다드리려고 남자 숙소를 기웃거리고 있었는데, 삼십대 중반쯤 되어 보이는 남자분이 나와서 내 얼굴을 보더니 “아, 안에 계시는 어르신 찾으세요?”라는 것입니다. 순간 ‘어르신 맞나? 아, 맞겠다. 배낭 메고 온 등산객들 중에 우리보다 나이 많은 사람이 잘 안 보였으니… .’ 또한 사춘기, 사추기, 갱년기, 거기다가 회갑 진갑도 다 지났으니, 또 손주를 셋이나 봤으니 명실공히 할머니가 된 것은 틀림이 없습니다. 우리 아이들이 어릴 때가 엊그제 같은데도 말입니다.
어쨌거나 인생에서 숙제는 늘 있는 것이고, 숙제할 때가 되면 숙제는 해야 되고, 그러면서 나도 모르는 사이에 세대가 바뀌어 가겠지요. 한 세대가 가면 다음 세대가 오는 것이고 말입니다. 그냥 흘러가는 것이 아니라 이전 세대들의 가풍이며 언어며 문화와 신앙을 전수하면서 흘러가겠지요. 신앙인들에게 무엇보다 중요한 숙제는 믿음을 물려주는 것이라는 생각이 듭니다. 창세기 18장 19 절 말씀에 “내가 그로 그 자식과 권속에게 명하여 여호와의 도를 지켜 공의와 정의를 행하게 하려고 그(아브라함)를 택하였나니 이는 나 여호와가 아브라함에게 대하여 말한 일을 이루려 함이니라.” 하나님께서 나를 부르신 것은 나의 자식과 권속으로 하여금 여호와의 도를 지키도록 하기 위함이라는 말씀입니다.
나이가 들고 본향 갈 날이 점점 가까워 올수록, 젊은 날에 소중하다고 붙잡고 있었던 것들도 별 것 아니고, 다 지나가는 것들임을 새삼 깨닫게 됩니다. 하나님께서 언제 본향으로 부르실지 모르겠지만 남은 삶은 정말 주님을 기쁘시게 하는 삶을 살아서 후손들에게 아름다운 믿음의 유산을 전해줄 수 있으면 얼마나 좋겠습니까?
그리고 이제는 사람들을 이해하고 받아주고 격려하고 축복하는 데 얼마 남지 않았을 시간을 쓰고 싶습니다. 일보다는 관계를 소중히 여기며, 비난하기 보다는 칭찬하며, 삐치고 섭섭해하기 보다는 먼저 사랑하는 맘을 가질 수 있기를 바라며, 더 이상 상황이 우리를 다스리도록 버려두지 않고, 주님 주신 새로운 성품이 우리를 다듬어가도록 남은 날들을 더욱 소중하게 사용하기를 소원합니다.
After seeing our youngest son married, we invited two neighboring pastor couples over for dinner under the pretext of celebrating the empty nest. Perhaps the celebration was merely an excuse, as they seemed eager to meet and share what was on their hearts. One pastor's wife began sharing the joyful news that her eldest daughter-in-law was expecting a baby, while another proudly took out her smartphone to show pictures of her grandchildren. Seeing our conversation naturally drift in that direction made me realize that we had all grown quite old. Indeed, one of the wives remarked, "It feels like just yesterday when I thought my lifelong homework was finished once I got married myself, but now we have to get our children married, look after grandchildren—truly, there is so much homework in life."
Indeed, she was right. A missionary who visited a few days ago said something similar: "These days, whenever I look at pastors, they all seem like younger brothers to me..." It reminded me of what a retired professor in South Africa once said when we were in our prime in our thirties: "I never thought I was growing old, but one day I realized that all the soldiers and police officers looked like younger brothers to me. So I thought, 'Ah, I’ve grown quite old.' Then, some time later, all the pastors looked like younger brothers. A while after that, the professors and senators looked like my own sons. Only then did I realize, 'Ah, I have really grown old.'" Yes, someone once said that people tend to believe they are in the sweet spring of youth until the day they die.
Listening to the news lately, news anchors casually refer to "a 60-year-old elderly person." An elderly person at sixty! Already? Shouldn't someone be around eighty to be called elderly? Such thoughts crossed my mind as someone in her mid-sixties. To be fair, when I was in my twenties, I used to think anyone fifty was an elderly person. That is not all. Several years ago on Mount Jiri, when I was peeking into the men's quarters at the Jangteomok shelter to bring medicine to my husband, a man in his mid-thirties stepped out, looked at my face, and asked, "Ah, are you looking for the elderly gentleman inside?" For a moment, I wondered, Could he mean my husband as an elderly gentleman? Ah, of course. Among the hikers carrying backpacks, we hardly saw anyone older than us... Moreover, having passed through adolescence, midlife transition, menopause, and even the 60th and 61st milestone birthdays, and with three grandchildren to boot, there is no denying that I have become a grandmother in every sense of the word—even though it feels like only yesterday when our own children were little.
In any case, life always has its homework, and when the time comes, that homework must be done; and in doing so, generations transition before we even realize it. As one generation passes, the next arrives. It does not merely drift away, but flows on while passing down the family traditions, language, culture, and faith of the previous generations. For believers, I believe the most essential homework of all is passing on faith. In Genesis 18:19, it is written: "For I have chosen him, so that he will direct his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just, so that the Lord will bring about for Abraham what he has promised him." This means God has called me so that my children and household may keep the way of the Lord.
As I grow older and the day of returning to my heavenly homeland draws nearer, I realize anew that the things I clung to as so precious in my youth are really nothing of great consequence; they are all passing away. I do not know when God will call me home, but how wonderful it would be if, in the remaining days of my life, I could live in a way that truly pleases the Lord and bequeath a beautiful legacy of faith to our descendants.
And now, I wish to spend the time that remains on understanding, embracing, encouraging, and blessing others. I pray that I may value relationships over mere tasks, praise rather than criticize, and hold a loving heart first instead of pouting or feeling hurt. I earnestly desire not to let circumstances rule over us any longer, but to use our remaining days ever more meaningfully, allowing the new character given by the Lord to refine and shape us.
Nadat ons ons jongste seun in die huwelik laat tree het, het ons twee nabygeleë leraarsgesinne genooi om by ons tuis te eet onder die voorwendsel om die laaste troue en die leë nes te vier. Miskien was die feesmaal bloot 'n verskoning, want hulle was begerig om mekaar te ontmoet en die dinge op hul harte te deel. Een van die leraarsvroue het met vreugde vertel dat haar oudste skoondogter 'n baba verwag, terwyl 'n ander haar slimfoon uitgehaal en trots foto's van haar kleinkinders begin wys het. Toe ek sien hoe die gesprek daardie koers inslaan, het ek besef dat ons almal al taamlik oud geword het. Een van die vroue het immers opgemerk: "Dit voel soos gister toe ek gedink het my lewenslange huiswerk sou klaar wees as ek net self trou, maar kyk nou—ons moet ons kinders laat trou, na kleinkinders omsien; werklik, die lewe het so baie huiswerk."
Inderdaad, sy was heeltemal reg. 'n Sendeling wat 'n paar dae gelede by ons gekuier het, het iets soortgelyks gesê: "Deesdae, wanneer ek na predikante kyk, lyk hulle almal vir my soos jonger broers..." Dit het my laat dink aan wat 'n afgetrede professor in Suid-Afrika eens gesê het toe ons in ons dertigs in die fleur van ons jeug was: "Ek het nooit gedink ek word oud nie, maar eendag het ek opgemerk dat al die soldate en polisiemanne soos jonger broers vir my gelyk het. Toe dink ek: 'Aha, ek het nogal oud geword.' 'n Rukkie later het al die predikante soos jonger broers gelyk. En nog 'n bietjie later het die professore en senatore soos my eie seuns gelyk. Eers toe het ek besef: 'Aha, ek het werklik baie oud geword.'" Ja, iemand het eens gesê dat 'n mens tot jou sterfdag toe dink jy is nog in die lente van jou jeug.
Wanneer 'n mens deesdae na die nuus luister, praat die nuuslesers sonder skroom van "'n bejaarde van sestig jaar." 'n Bejaarde op sestig! Nou al? Moet 'n mens nie omtrent tagtig wees om as 'n bejaarde beskou te word nie? Sulke gedagtes het by my opgekom as iemand in haar middel-sestigs. Maar nou ja, toe ek in my twintigs was, het ek gedink enigiemand van vyftig is al 'n bejaarde. Nie net dit nie; toe ons jare gelede op die Jiri-berg was en ek by die Jangteomok-skuiling in die manskoshuis ingeloer het om vir my man medisyne te bring, het 'n man van omtrent vyf-en-dertig uitgekom, na my gekyk en gevra: "O, soek u na die bejaarde heer daar binne?" Vir 'n oomblik het ek gewonder: Bedoel hy werklik my man as 'n bejaarde heer? O, sekerlik ja. Tussen al die stappers met rugsakke het ons skaars iemand gesien wat ouer as ons was... Boonop het die tienerjare, die middeljare, die menopouse, sowel as ons sestigste en een-en-sestigste mylpale lankal verbygegaan, en met drie kleinkinders daarby is dit bo alle twyfel dat ek nou in elke opsig 'n ouma geword het—al voel dit nog soos gister toe ons eie kinders klein was.
Hoe dit ook al sy, daar is altyd huiswerk in die lewe, en wanneer die tyd aanbreek, moet die werk gedoen word; en so, sonder dat ons dit self agterkom, skuif die geslagte aan. Soos een geslag heengaan, kom die volgende een. Dit waai nie sommer net verby nie, maar vloei voort terwyl die familietradisies, taal, kultuur en geloof van die vorige geslagte oorgedra word. Vir gelowiges, glo ek, is die allerbelangrikste huiswerk om die geloof aan die nageslag oor te dra. In Genesis 18:19 staan daar immers geskrywe: "Want Ek het hom verkies, sodat hy aan sy kinders en sy huis ná hom bevel sou gee om die weg van die Here te hou deur geregtigheid en reg te doen, sodat die Here oor Abraham kan bring wat Hy oor hom gespreek het." Dit beteken dat God my geroep het sodat my kinders en huisgenote die weg van die Here kan bewaar.
Soos die jare aanstap en die dag om na die ewige tuiste te gaan al hoe nader kom, besef ek opnuut dat die dinge waaraan ek my in my jeug so krampagtig vasgehou het as kosbaar, eintlik maar min beteken; dit is alles dinge wat verbygaan. Ek weet nie wanneer God my hemel toe sal roep nie, maar hoe wonderlik sou dit wees as ek my oorblywende dae só kan leef dat dit die Here waarlik behaag, en ek 'n pragtige erfenis van geloof aan ons nageslag kan nalaat?
En nou wens ek om die tyd wat nog oor is, te gebruik om mense te verstaan, te aanvaar, te bemoedig en te seën. Ek bid dat ek verhoudings hoër sal ag as take, liewer sal prys as kritiseer, en 'n liefdevolle hart eerste sal stel pleks van om nukkerig of seergemaak te voel. Ek begeer van harte om nie meer toe te laat dat omstandighede oor ons heers nie, maar om die oorblywende dae des te meer kosbaar te gebruik, sodat die nuwe karakter wat die Here ons geskenk het, ons kan bly skaaf en vorm.