Where do wrinkles come from?

Several months ago, I had two cataracts removed from my eyes. How they got there, I don’t know. As far as I remember, they never asked me for permission, and moreover, they never paid rent to be there.

According to the ophthalmologist, and doctors are never wrong, I now have a vision of 2020. I have never had such a vision since I was ten years old.

All I really need now are reading glasses, and my vision is pretty good.

That sounds like a good thing on the surface, but everything good has a little dark corner tucked away somewhere.

The good thing is that I can see excellent.

The bad thing is that I can see excellent.

I didn’t quite understand this until it recently came into full view.

Usually when I go to the bathroom in the morning to get ready for the day, I don’t wear my glasses. Before my cataract operation, everything was a blur and I was accused of it. Isn’t it funny how you get used to some things and then you don’t notice them?

Now my vision is so good that when I go to the bathroom in the morning to get ready for the day, I have perfect vision in the mirror.

If that’s not scary, then you haven’t looked in my mirror any morning. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was Frankenstein’s grandson.

What surprised me so much was that while I was looking at my face to get ready to shave, I noticed a few things that I had never noticed before. Those things were “wrinkles.”

I have noticed these things in other people, like the one who lives in the same house with me. But I have never noticed it in myself. But there they were. There they were in all their disgusting splendor.

Not only did he have a wrinkle, but for some reason, that wrinkle brought his entire family with him. And, to top it off, the first wrinkle never asked permission to settle on my face.

But there they were, and he was looking at them for the first time.

I don’t know the real purpose of the wrinkles or where in the world they come from or where I can send them.

I have a relative, who will remain anonymous, who deals with wrinkles all the time. He has had so many plastic surgeries that it is difficult to recognize who he really is. Reminds me of Joan Rivers.

I’ve always teased him. When he would see her, he would look into her face and say, “Is that a new wrinkle on your face?”

I’d laugh and she’d laugh, but her laugh wasn’t as genuine as mine. In a few moments, she would be gone, and I never knew where she went, except that I suspected she was looking at the new wrinkle in the bathroom mirror.

The next time I saw her, that wrinkle was gone.

Have you ever noticed that things always come back to you when you try to do them to someone else? I thought about calling her and asking for her opinion on what I should do about my wrinkles. I knew that if she did, she couldn’t stop laughing, so I’m not going to go in that direction.

But what are wrinkles really for? What is the purpose of a wrinkle? And where did they come from? And do I need to wear a mask?

Due to my confusion in this area, I thought I would take the risk of asking Gracious Mistress at the rectory about my wrinkles.

I cautiously approached her and said, “I found out that I have some wrinkles on my face, and I don’t know where they came from. Do you know what I could do?”

She obviously thought he was joking because she couldn’t stop him from laughing.

When he finally calmed down, he said, “You’ve had wrinkles for as long as I can remember.” Then she started laughing again.

When he calmed down again, he said, “The purpose of the wrinkles is to keep track of your age. Each wrinkle represents a certain age in your life.” She then she laughed again. Obviously this is fun for her.

The next time I was in front of the mirror, I carefully looked at my wrinkles and tried to count them. If what he says is true, I must be 397 years old.

I came out of the bathroom with a very sour look on my face, and when my wife looked at me, once again, she laughed hilariously. I’m glad she thinks it’s funny!

I’m not sure what to do about my wrinkles, but I’m not going to have plastic surgery.

I need to accept things as they are and not allow something as silly as a wrinkle to define who I am. If I do that, I will never come to any kind of reality about myself. Surely I am not my wrinkle.

As I thought about this, I remembered a verse from the Bible. “Guide me, O Lord, in your justice because of my enemies; make your way straight before my face” (Psalm 5:8).

My face has more important things to do than worry about wrinkles. I need to trust in the Lord every day to put before my face the path that he wants me to follow for his glory.