I have come to the age where I do not trust my vision to determine if my make-up looks like that of an old lady. (You know the kind of old lady I am talking about.) So this Sunday as I shared the bathroom with Holly and Hannah in getting ready for church, I asked them to check my eye shadow. I shut my eyes and I felt their fingertips gently slide across my eyelids to blend the color a bit. Suddenly Hannah exclaimed: Mom, What is wrong with your eye!?" Sensing Hannah's horror, Holly quickly answered: "Hannah those are wrinkles, Mom is old!" Apparently Hannah didn't like the fact that half of the skin on my face moved with her finger. I wasn't offended. In fact, I was pleased that Hannah hadn't really "noticed" the wrinkles and saggy skin prior to this incident. Keeping my feelings in mind, Holly sweetly added: "Hannah, mom looks good for a fifty-three year old." Having my daughters check my make-up, seeing my imperfections, and acknowledging my advancing years made me love them a little bit more for some reason.
My face shows wear and tear, but I still feel like a silly, gullible girl much of the time. I often wonder how old will I have to be to acquire wisdom, or am I destined to always be a silly, gullible girl.