Twilight ponderings
I love the group of retirees that meet in one of our branch churches at St Columbs, Arcadia. I've known most of them since I was a kid, was in Bible Study lead by one of their kids years ago (who is now a missionary), knew another one of their children who has since passed away from CF, one of them worked in the office of my high school, one of them is the mother of a friend in my bible study group last year, and all of them as a group have challenged and encouraged me as I've progressed into leading services and preaching in the last couple of years (they've been very patient with me too!). I love being able to bring God's Word to them and learn from them as well.
But please, ladies (not so much a problem for the guys thankfully), let's get one thing straight - I'm not a "beautiful boy"!
Firstly, I'm male - there's nothing 'beautiful' about me. I'm tough and hard-core and nasty and brutal. I shoot fear into the hearts of 7 foot stalkers who try and jump me in dark alleys. I have no mercy, take no prisoners and I'm not even particularly handsome according to my Yr 6 Scripture Class at Dural a couple of years ago!
Second, if you believe the teenagers at my church, I'm as old as they come, what's with this 'boy' rubbish?! I am at the peak of my physical strength and intellect. I turn heads in the gym, I've got character lines for crying out loud! Enough with the diaper jokes!
And finally, if this is what i get for wearing a tie, trust me, it comes off much easier than it goes on people!
The lesson from this is, of course, that when you reach your twilight years and are pondering how you can share a little love and good will with the rest of the world, please understand that 26 is not 6, and dead-sexy is not 'beautiful'. If you've got a lovely grandaughter by then though, by all means arrange a quiet dinner for the dashing student minister, but if you can somehow not be there, it'd be all the better!
To try and restore my manliness (which could really never be shaken I know), I have found a better name to call me:

There you go, my Cyborg name. That'll bring back the testosterone.
Yours in oozing masculine pheramones,
JT
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