What's happened to my neck? And my faith?

"I Feel Bad About My Neck" is a funny book by Nora Ephron about aging. Not aging in the sense that one is already aged and continues to do so, but in the sense that one has become aware she has crossed the line in the sand and is truly growing old. Not older. Old.

In recent photographs of myself, first thing I notice is my neck. When did it get those lines in it? When did it start to look like my grandkids' stacking rings?

I have tried to de-wrinkle it, but to do that, I have to make a face like a lizard. Doesn't do much for the rest of my face, you know.

I have a puggy nose, thanks to my Irish ancestors. (We not only love to eat potatoes, but our facial features look like spuds.) Anyway, to make my nose look less upturned, or in truth so it doesn't look like you can drive a truck up my nostrils, I usually try to put my chin down in photos. Now when I do that, my nose continues to look less ... well, opened up ... but I produce a double-chin and my neck collapses in folds. I've tried having photos taken with me slightly below the camera so I am looking up. It helps, but it looks like I'm trying really hard, which I am.

Funny, when I talk to people face-to-face, I rarely think about what I look like. I just go on and on. My chin might double, my nostrils might flair, my nose might tip up, and my neck might fold. I don't think about it. I'm too busy talking, telling my story, my point of view, relating to a sister, or connecting with a stranger.

I've had photos taken while I was in a conversation. How candid I am when I speak; how candid are the photos. I look like I'm choking or having a seizure or rolling my eyes in disgust or saying "Duh. Doit ta doit ta doit" or asking the listener if there is something up my nose. I do not look like I'm worth listening to. I look like something is wrong.

What feels wrong is getting old. As a Christian, I should be happy about having one foot in the grave. It means I'll soon be in Heaven with Jesus. The apostle Paul writes a lot about approaching the end of his life and his longing to live in eternity with Jesus. He even had a look-see at Heaven during his earthly life. His life -- his ministry -- was coming to an end and he was ready to move on. (He was killed, by the way. He didn't die peacefully in his sleep, aided by lots of morphine.) I read what he writes and I want to share his aging eagerness.

But I want to look good in the process. How awful is that?