The wrinkles on my grandmother’s face were beautiful. When “Mema” laughed, all the lines on her face curved upward, like a hundred smiles. Now that I’m getting on in years, I often think of Mema. Her wrinkles chronicled the wisdom that she had gained from life.
In her younger years, she lost the family farm, her home, my grandfather’s income, and her young son in World War II. But she never lost her faith. Though life was hard, God made her strong on the inside. In her older years, our entire family sought her wise counsel. She was the most joyful person we knew.
Today, we live in a youth-oriented culture. Drug store shelves are lined with anti-aging creams. Commercials tells us that cosmetics will reduce the appearance of wrinkles. Botox treatments are just a phone-call away.
But perhaps we should wear our wrinkles like smiles. Like ribbons of grace, our wisdom glitters in every line and furrow.
That’s worth celebrating.