I read the story of a woman who, for forty years, made a deliberate choice not to smile. Her reason? She feared the wrinkles that laughter might leave behind. To her, a smooth face seemed worth the sacrifice.
I can’t help but wonder what she gave up in that pursuit—how much life she chose to ignore, how much joy she forfeited, in order to preserve her appearance.
I have more wrinkles than I did twenty years ago. They now crisscross my face like roads on a map. But each one tells a story—of life lived, of choices made to feel it all—joy, sorrow, laughter, love. My face may be less smooth, but my life is infinitely richer, marked by experiences and choices the unsmiling lady will never know.
I’ve always believed that the face we have when we’re older is the face we earn when we’re young. I’m not speaking of appearance here, either, but countenance—of what emanates from us when we encounter others—of the silent messages we transmit before we ever speak a word.
I worked in a nursing home for the first five years of our marriage and, without exception, according to those who knew them, the faces I encountered each day corresponded with the lives they had lived and the attitudes they had chosen along the way. It was written in their expressions—the quiet grace of those who had practiced love and forgiveness, the hardness etched by years of bitterness and anger.
Though I speak of wrinkles, the emphasis, actually, is on what transcends them. It’s not about how we look, but about who we are—and Whose we are. The lines on our faces may tell part of the story, but the light we carry, and the Light we reflect, tells the rest.
Every wrinkle, every line, every crease is a memory of a moment when we opened ourselves up to life, no matter how fleeting.
It’s tempting to believe that joy is something we must wait for—something that arrives only when circumstances are perfect, or when life finally falls into place. But joy isn’t a luxury we’re given; it’s a choice we make, no matter what is happening around us.
Wrinkles are not just signs of aging—they are indicators of a life well-lived. They are evidence of joy embraced, of love shared, of laughter that could not be contained.
In the end, the face we grow into is not one that reflects the avoidance of life, but the embrace of it.
Choosing joy is about opening ourselves to life’s gifts, even when they come wrapped in challenges. It’s about saying yes to delight, yes to love, yes to all the things that make us feel alive. The face we wear as we age is not just the face time has given us—it’s the face we’ve earned, through every moment we chose to live fully.
And so, with each smile, each laugh, each moment of joy, I am earning my face. Wrinkles and all.
“With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.”
~ 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞
“For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”
~ 𝟐 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝟒:𝟔