Men of a Certain Age
Faith, friendship, and A1C levels
Since moving back to Houston, I’ve been meeting monthly for lunch with three friends.
We’ve known each other for years—long enough for the conversations to wander easily. Sometimes they’re thoughtful and deep. Sometimes they’re light and humorous. Sometimes they’re both in the same sentence. What strikes me most isn’t just what we talk about—but how we talk about it.
You can imagine that men of a certain age talk about a lot of things.
We talk about family and work.
About what’s changing—and what isn’t.
Faith and God and the state of the world.
And then, inevitably, we talk about cholesterol, blood pressure, and our A1C levels.
Did I mention we’re men of a certain age?
I’m not sure what they’d say if you asked them. But as I think about it, there seems to be more ease now. More of that comfortable-in-your-own-skin openness. And with that comes more listening. More curiosity. More grace.
Faith still comes up—but not as something to prove or explain. It comes up as something lived. Shaped by years of joy and disappointment, clarity and confusion, strength and vulnerability. Something that holds us.
That’s one of the gifts of being a person of a certain age. Long friendships become places where faith stretches its legs. Over time, you start to know each other’s stories—the chapters you’re proud of and the ones you’d rather skip (and we’ve all got those, don’t we?). And somehow, that shared history becomes a piece of holy ground.
I suppose that’s how faith grows—through day-by-day moments that turn into seasons, and seasons that slowly turn into years. Through people who stay. Through conversations that keep unfolding. Through showing up again and again, even as bodies change, questions deepen, and life refuses to stay simple.
I believe God’s presence is all around us. And I believe that presence often shows up in unique ways through people who know us well. Friendship—real, long-haul friendship—is one of the quiet ways grace takes shape in our lives. And I’m deeply grateful.
So here’s to faith that’s been tested and tenderized. To laughter mixed with lab results. And to friendships that hold us steady as we keep growing, changing, and learning what it means to trust God with the life we’re living now.
Much love,
Pastor Gregg
