Young-old? Middle-old? Oldest-old? These terms make me chuckle, and I also find myself sighing—loudly. I'm hitting the last year of young-old. A milestone, though it feels less like a triumph and more like an invitation to reflection. These questions surface: What does discipleship look like in the season of decline, when knees ache, energy fades, and names sometimes slip away? How do I finish this race with joy? 

The culture whispers that aging is a problem to be solved, a disease to resist. My social media often features the next miracle supplement, an exercise plan promising strength and mobility. There are many lists—do this, and don't do that—for longevity. But Psalm 71 pushes back with a better vision: aging is an opportunity, a holy vocation, another chapter in the lifelong call to be a disciple of Jesus and to make disciples of Jesus.

The psalmist, likely an older man himself, pleads with God, “So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come” (Ps. 71:18). That prayer strikes me with both tenderness and urgency. He does not ask for endless vitality or for his youth to return. His longing is not to avoid aging, but to age faithfully, to keep speaking of God’s might until the next generation is ready to carry God’s story forward.

No Expiration Date on Service

In our modern imagination, aging often means stepping aside, fading into the background, or withdrawing into comfort. However, discipleship has no expiration date. When J. I. Packer, in his later years, wrote Finishing Our Course with Joy, he captured this same truth: the Christian life does not retire (Packer 2014, 18). For some, retirement means endless golf games or Netflix marathons. Rest has its place, but later years can be a strategic season: leading a Bible study, mentoring younger believers, or praying faithfully for missionaries. Our limitations do not disqualify us, they highlight our dependence on Christ. These choices push against the cultural script of fading out and instead move us to invest our days in the kingdom.

Weakness as a Witness

Psalm 71 speaks honestly about frailty: “Forsake me not when my strength is spent” (v. 9). Aging brings decline—arthritic fingers fumble with buttons, a hearing aid squeals mid-hymn, a familiar name hovers out of reach. It can feel like a cruel joke. Yet each limitation can become an invitation to lean harder on Christ. Every weakness can turn into a simple prayer, “Lord, be my strength today.”

Even asking for help can be discipleship. A younger believer fixing your phone or carrying in your groceries learns something that sermons rarely teach—grace grows where self-sufficiency ends. The humility of accepting help is a living picture of the body of Christ.

I see this every Sunday in a dear friend, twenty years my senior. He appears at the sanctuary door with walker in hand. He pauses to rest at the back row, then moves steadily toward the front. Ask how he’s doing, and his face breaks into a smile, “Grateful for another day and the joy of worshiping with my church family.” His quiet perseverance preaches louder than words—God’s strength is made perfect in weakness.

This is why discipleship in old age matters. Frail voices still declaring God’s power, worn hands still opening Scripture, wrinkled faces shining with faith, they all testify: God keeps His promises.

Passing the Faith Forward

Discipleship in later life also takes a storytelling shape. Psalm 71 exhorts, “My mouth will tell of your righteous acts…all the day” (v. 15). Sharing Scripture with grandchildren, mentoring over coffee, writing notes of encouragement, or offering brief testimonies in everyday moments embeds God’s faithfulness in new hearts. These repeated, ordinary acts are the way the next generation learns to trust God.

I grew up surrounded by a family that loved God and lived to honor Him. One of the strongest influences in my faith was my aunt, my mother’s sister, who was disabled and homebound. We visited her often, and she became my “gray-haired mentor.” I can still picture her Bible open on her lap, a pencil tucked in the pages, ready to share what she had learned. Her words were laced with praise. She spoke of God as naturally as others talk about the weather. She loved to tell me about the books she was reading, how a commentator had opened a new window into Scripture, or what truth had gripped her heart that week. Her smile and gentle curiosity drew me in, but it was her devotion to God’s Word that left the deepest mark. She showed me that loving God with your whole heart means being his student for a lifetime.

Aging as a Gift, Not a Curse

Culture tells us that aging steals beauty, productivity, and value. But Scripture tells a better story. Your gray hairs are not a disqualification but credentials. They are signs that you have seen God keep His promises. They give weight to your words when you tell of His faithfulness. They remind the church that our hope is not in health, success, or longevity, but in the eternal life promised in Christ.

Still, some mornings you may feel invisible, as though the world has no use for you anymore. That ache is real, but irrelevance is a lie the gospel unmasks. Every phone call to check in on a friend, every whispered prayer for your pastor, every kind word to a frazzled young mom in the grocery line, these are disciple-making moments. Christ’s kingdom does not run on youth and beauty; it runs on faithfulness.

A podcast I listened to recently said it well: aging is a discipleship issue (Doctor, Kruger, Wilkin, 2025). It’s not something to resent but something to steward. How do we prepare our souls for the decline of our bodies? By sinking our roots deeper into Christ. By learning contentment, patience, and humility. By treasuring beauty that does not fade; the beauty of holiness, of joy in the Lord, and of hope in the resurrection. Aging, though hard, is beautiful when it points others to the God who never grows old.

Aging is not a hindrance to discipleship; it is a resource. The church needs the testimony of older saints who have walked long with Jesus. We need models of perseverance who show that faith is not just for the vibrant but for the weary, not just for the strong but for the failing. We need disciples who can say with trembling voices and steadfast eyes, “I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken” (Ps. 37:25).

If you are younger, do not overlook the gift of older disciples around you. Listen to their stories. Ask them to pray with you. Learn from their endurance. The body of Christ flourishes when generations walk together, when the older teach and the younger receive, when testimonies of the past fuel faith for the future. Discipleship is never a one-generation project—it always requires the passing of the torch.

Finishing With Joy

Psalm 71 ends not in despair but in hope, “My lips will shout for joy, when I sing praises to you; my soul also, which you have redeemed” (v. 23). That is the goal of aging well in discipleship, not merely to survive, but to finish with joy. To proclaim His might to another generation. To hand off the baton with hands still trembling but hearts still steadfast. To let every wrinkle and every gray hair become a testimony that our God is faithful, and He will not forsake us.

So let us embrace aging as part of our discipleship. Let us see it as a gift, not a curse. Let us pray with the psalmist, “Do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come” (v. 18b). And let us trust that even in weakness, our witness can multiply disciples for the glory of Christ.