We all end up at the mall...

30 is the new 20. Thirty is the new twenty! I keep telling myself that cause I turned 30 on saturday. The big 3-0. I feel old. No, I AM old, and that scares me more than you can imagine. I've always been scared of growing old. A few months ago, I wrestled with this life-long fear and here's what came out...

It’s 10:45AM.
I’m at the mall and I’m literally surrounded by old people.
I feel like i just stepped into a different culture.
Life is quiet, calm and slow.

There’s a table of 4 old men to my right, all slowly sipping coffee. Every 5 minutes one of them says a word and the others just nod. I think I just saw a smile for the first time in 20 minutes. They don’t seem to be in any kind of a hurry. I think they really love this.

Strange thing is, 8 hours from now, the mall will be crawling with young people.

Everything speeds up. Everything changes.
No coffee in sight. Just big gulps. Mountain dew reigns.
Tattoos, baggy jeans, skinny jeans, sagging jeans.
Young people everywhere.

This is the cool thing to do... at least until you get to college, then mall = dumb for the next 50 years and then we’re back AGAIN. 
I guess no matter how cool we are, we all end up at the mall.
I’m going to end up at the mall.
I’m okay with that.
The part that scares me though is that when I end up at the mall, it’ll most likely mean I’m nearing the end of the race.
I’m not afraid of dying. I’m just afraid of regret.

I mean, I wonder how many of these old folks wish they could do it over again.
I wonder how many would give anything for a second chance to...

Choose their wives over sports...
Give more.
Trust more.
Risk more.
Love more.

For some reason, it’s almost impossible for me to imagine being at the end of ones life without being bombarded with regret.
It just feels inevitable. 
But then you have the apostle Paul who at the end of his life said...
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith”

Man. I’ve heard that verse so many times but my soul is freaking out as I read those words right now. I wanna cry or scream. Or both.
How incredible.
Can you imagine Paul, an ex-murderer, sitting down at the Jerusalem mall, penning those words to a young Timothy?
“I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith”
No regrets.
Wow.
Life with no regrets. Possible in Christ.

You can ACTUALLY finish the race well in Christ.
Wow.