I’m a huge fan of “next.” When new technology shows up, I’m quick to learn it, test it, and imagine what it might become. When it comes to software or services, that mindset has led to more than a few canceled “free trials.”
But somewhere along the way, I realized something—our culture treats people the same way. We move so fast that we shelve what’s familiar in favor of whatever feels new. And in doing that, we risk overlooking something deeply valuable. Not things… people.
Years ago, when my wife and I first became Christians, we were barely adults—19 and 21—with a child of our own. My father had just passed, and Dorothy hadn’t seen hers in years. We didn’t need something new. We needed something steady.
That’s when an older, small-church pastor in southern Arizona took an interest in us.
He didn’t impress us with flash or innovation. He simply showed up. He preached on Sunday, but he also checked in on Monday. He’d take me out for coffee and pie during the week. He listened more than he spoke, and when he did speak, it carried the weight of a life that had been lived, tested, and proven.
Over time, that became our normal. Not a program. Not a strategy. A relationship.
What we didn’t fully realize then was how deeply that investment would shape us. His wisdom wasn’t theoretical—it was lived out in front of us. His presence gave us stability when everything else felt uncertain. And his willingness to pour into a young couple set a pattern that would influence the next forty years of our lives.
Here’s what I’ve come to believe: we don’t honor senior adults by simply caring for them—we honor them by listening to them, learning from them, and inviting them into the work that still needs to be done.
They are not relics of the past. They are repositories of wisdom. So here’s the challenge.
If you’re younger, find someone older and lean in. Ask questions. Make time. Don’t just admire their story—learn from it.
If you’re older, don’t assume your time of influence has passed. Someone needs what you’ve lived. Step in. Speak up. Show up. And for all of us—let’s stop chasing “next” long enough to recognize what’s already been given to us.
Because sometimes, the very thing we’re tempted to overlook… is exactly what we need most.