shades of gray
the old barn still stands
old and weathered
The old gray barn stands weathered and torn. The beams creak. The cobwebs hang high in the rafters and over old rusty tools. The smells of hay, must, and dust linger in the air. Signs of life still roam around. A pig, a few cows, a dog running in and out. A horse. A farmer. Typically, the older the barn, the older the farmer, with generations running out in the fields. Folks whose hands are as cracked and dry as the walls of the stalls.
Set off country roads or far back in open fields, the barn represents an old way of life. Lovers of land. Wanting peace and quiet, yearning for space. Country-life. Hard work. A simple life, but not an easy life. The kind that gets your hands dirty. Rise with the sun. Sleep when it sets—office hours in between.
I long to hear tales of the old barn standing, wearing the scars of Mother Nature's tantrums. The older it is, the more legendary, or obsolete, but always ponder worthy. It commands respect. Respect for the time that's passed through its bones. The lives spent in and around it. Strong. Unbroken. Tattered but not fallen. The shades of gray tell its story. Battle-tested, unwilling to succumb.
As my shades of gray start rolling in, I hope I age like the old gray barn. And, when weathered and torn, I stand as resilient and strong.
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Proverbs 20:29 (ESV)
The glory of the young men is their strength, but the splendor of old men is their gray hair.
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You’re going be even stronger.
Good one Kim like it