getting old

Youth is overrated. No, you’re not at your best in your 20s or younger. Getting old isn’t sad, at all. No, youth isn’t some mystic sublime experience like they say in books and movies. And aging is just a wonderful chance you have, that many don’t. To learn, to grow, to become a better person, to meet new people, fall in love, to, if you want to, have children, buy your own house, maybe, to travel, to learn new languages, to write, to read, to do so many things. No, young people aren’t inherently better than old ones and i’m sick of society treating older people like they are less, like they are a burden. Nothing has age limit. Don’t be afraid of getting old.

God doesn’t need things to work out in your timing in order for it to work out in His timing. He doesn’t need you to be a certain age in order to give you a fulfilling and fruitful life that is filled with joy and passion.

Yes, there are some things that are specifically tied to age or certain stages of our lives and the way we grow, but God’s plan for your life is not halted by those things.

Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity. - 1 Timothy 4:12

No matter what age you are, this passage is a reminder that God does not need us to be a certain age in order for Him to use us. He needs us to be i the right place of being willing to trust and obey Him and let Him take the lead.

Whether you feel like you’re running out of time or you have too much time and don’t know what to do with it, remember that when you seek God first, He will continue to give you a life that allows you to worship Him, serve Him, and make the most of every opportunity. You don’t have to be a certain age in order for God to do a mighty work in your life!

Written by @morganhnichols for #TheDevoCo

Decay

Holy crap, what’s this? Some Saigenos? Hell yeah! In the FUTURE!

Originally posted by kanneki

Saitama used to joke that thanks to being bald, he wouldn’t have to worry about looking old until he was dead. But the first time Genos teared up when he said it in front of him, Saitama never mentioned it again.

Thirty years had passed in an instant, no matter how long they stretched the individual moments. And, man, Saitama had loved every second: every morning waking up next to Genos in their futon, every trip to get groceries, every evening watching whatever was on television while Genos cleaned up from dinner.

One day, as he stood in front of the mirror after going to the bathroom, he noticed some things that he hadn’t seen before. Wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth. Sharper lines stretching near his cheek bones. And he walked out and saw Genos rolling up the futon, looking…the exact same as he did the day he met him.

“Oi, Genos, I’m going to go for a walk, okay?”

“Do you want me to accompany you, Sensei?”

He smirked at that, because even after all this time, he still insisted on calling him that. He had given up telling him to stop a long time ago. “Nah. You don’t have to.” But as he was heading out the door, Saitama paused. “Do you think I’m…hmm.” How did he ask this without sounding vain? “Does it bother you that I’m starting to look older?”

“Not at all, Sensei,” Genos immediately replied. “I think age is very becoming on you.”

Saitama didn’t know how to feel about that. “Thanks, I think. But you still…you’re still so young. Well, you’ve got all the earmarks, anyway. And here I am. Just…decaying.”

He regretted using the word, waiting for Genos to get upset, emotional over it, wishing he could take it back. But instead, Genos straightened and walked over to face him. Saitama’s small growth spurt in his late twenties had given him an extra inch or two, but the cyborg was still taller. He was surprised when instead of oily tears, Genos’s face broke into a kind smile as he took Saitama’s hands in his.

“Not decaying, Sensei. Thriving. I look at you and I see so many years of happiness and joy and all the life you’ve given for others. Myself included.” He pressed his forehead against Saitama’s, eyes open and staring into his. “I say that age is becoming on you because…I’ve gotten to see you change into this amazing man who now stands before me. And I get to love you still and keep seeing you, and I am so lucky.”

Saitama let out a huff and tipped his head to kiss Genos softly. That was still the same. Blissfully so. Something he never tired of. “Yeah, well. I’m pretty damn lucky too.”

“So if you’ll have me, I would like to join you on your walk.”

Saitama kept holding onto Genos’s hand as he stepped into his shoes. “I’d love that.”

“I shall endeavor to keep a pace to match yours. I would not wish to cause your elderly body any strain.”

“Watch it, brat.”

i remember
when we held hands and drove
on the wrong side of the road,
going nowhere, going home;
got lost in your voice,
got lost in the moment.
sweet memories that taste of
crab apples and cranberries;
all the things i used to be;
i remember how fast we were going,
how slow we were growing;
we were never enough
for a flash of a smile, a laugh.
moving on and away,
there’s no place no more
for these sweet memories to stay.
—  sweet enough to remember, sour enough not to last || r.m. || 10.23.17