January 30, 2018 (Tuesday)
According to Wikipedia, as of January 23, 2018, the seven oldest people in the world range in age from 114 to 117. Four of the seven live in Japan.
These centenarians not withstanding, life expectancy is longer in Japan–79 for men and 86 for women. In the U.S.A., it’s 76 for men and 81 for women.
A Japanese person has a healthier diet than the average American. A big difference includes 
eating less red meat and fewer dairy products. Lifestyles related to their culture require more standing and walking. Their culture calls for attention to aging parents. Socializing is a necessity; some companies require their employees to go somewhere and socialize before going home. I wrote a blog yesterday about the importance of interaction with people as a longevity factor. Cleanliness is important within the Japanese culture. We Americans will never be as vigilant as they are in following some of their rules about this, but I am told that just washing your hands often is something that we all need to do to avoid illness.
I try not to get “preachy” when I talk about practicing a healthy lifestyle. “Physician, heal thyself” is always echoing in my head.
Evidently, however, genetics are an important factor in this equation for longevity, because families exhibit similar traits from generation to generation, displaying tendencies toward certain types of disease as well as greater or lesser life expectancy.
As Spock so brilliantly says as he parts his fingers in Vulcan style, “Live long and prosper.” As much as we don’t like accepting responsibility in making this happen, we do make decisions about lifestyle every day that eventually determine our health and length of life.
Jesus asked, “Which of you by taking thought can make yourself taller?” There is a limit to what we can do to help ourselves to a healthy, happy life, but make no mistake, we have a lot to do with it. (end of sermon).
I close with a favorite poem:
by John E. Roberts
They say I’m growing old.
I’ve heard them tell it times untold
In language plain and bold.
But I’m not growing old.
This frail old shell in which I dwell
Is growing old, I know full well,
But I’m not the shell.
What if my hair is turning gray?
Grey hair is honorable they say.
What if my eyesight is growing dim?
I still can see to follow Him
Who sacrificed His life for me
Upon the Cross of Calvary.
Why should I care if time’s old plow
Has left its furrows on my brow?
Another house not made with hands
Awaits me in the glory land.
My hearing may not be as keen
As in the past it might have been,
Still I can hear my Savior say,
In whispers soft, “This is the way.”
The outward man, do what I can
To lengthen out this life’s short span
Shall perish and return to dust
As everything in nature must.
The inward man, the Scriptures say,
Is growing stronger every day.
So how can I be growing old
When safe within my Savior’s fold?
This robe of flesh I’ll drop
And rise to seize the everlasting prize.
I’ll meet you on the streets of gold
And prove that I’m not growing old.