Just musing, but on this mission trip to Mississippi, working with our work crew leader Dale Bernhardt (a 58-year-old retired Ford employee, and an excellent drywall installer), and the good man-to-man friendship we have developed, reminds me of a curious fact. As my Dad was only a few weeks shy of 50 when I was born, and used to emphasize to us constantly when we were kids that "a person doesn't even BEGIN to mature until about the age of 25," the combination of these two things made me consider myself still a "boy" until well past the age of 40 (bizarre though this seems). I only then began to consider that it was OK to regard myself as a "man," and even now, in these waning days of my forties, as 50 looms very large on the horizon, I sometimes feel like an imposter. But my kids regard me as "ancient" ... and I have to admit, that I AM starting to get up there.