I’m shocked at my appearance, Father.
My face has changed.
It’s not just the proliferation of wrinkles,
But my cheeks and chin and jowls and neck
have sagged and drooped and puffed.
My hair—what’s left
is grey—or perhaps white—and lifeless.
My posture is stooped.
My confident stride has been reduced to a shuffle,
to instinctively protect myself from falling.
I barely recognise my reflection.
You don’t look on the outside, Father,
But the inside,
And I’m grateful—
Or I think I am.
What do you see when you look at me—
Not at my outside, but at my inside?
Do you still recognise
my desire to honour you?
Am I still attractive to you
On the inside?
But the Lord said to him, ‘Pay no attention to how tall and handsome he is. I have rejected him, because I do not judge as people judge. They look at the outward appearance, but I look at the heart.’ (1 Samuel 16: 7, GNT)