Savoring Sixty

A mere 10 years ago, my 50th birthday slipped by, practically unnoticed in the hubbub of the daughter's impending wedding.  A year later, said daughter planned a surprise soiree to mark #51 where I was blessed by the presence and the presents of dear friends and family who came to celebrate with me.  This year, I've crossed over to a new decade. Oh. My.


To mark it, the husband and the daughter pulled off the most amazing surprise, the night before Easter at our favorite place with our favorite people.  What an amazing event and how blessed I was! It was a slice of wonderful.  My heart was so full!  But, after the party, comes the growing older part…

Were the fifties fabulous? I'd say so.  There was  a major home remodel, a  job change, a corneal transplant,  new ministry opportunities, two beautiful new granddaughters, multiple trips to places near  and far as well as the trip of a lifetime to Italy with the husband. Not that it was all rainbows and light…in the same time frame, loss and sorrow visited, too.  We lost all four of our parents in this decade, rendering us middle aged orphans.  And that feels very odd, indeed.

Still. It's been a pretty great ten years.

As I contemplated sixty, there was no regret--no wishing I were 22 or 32 or 42 or even 52.  I am not unaware that I am growing older.  Lord knows. with the ridiculous amount of magnification needed to put on my make-up every morning,  I can clearly see the lines and crevices on my once taut and dewy face. Every. One. Of. Them.

I stopped coloring my hair more nearly five years back and  gave up high heels in lieu of flats for the most part over the last two or three.  I've seen a chiropractor with some regularity for various ailments, from my back to my shoulders to my ankles.  I conquered anemia and now am low on calcium and a little high on the cholesterol.  Yes,  a little schizophrenic, I know.   I have repeatedly lost the same 15 pounds but, it keeps finding me.  I do find that a little irritating, I confess.

I look back at photos when I was in my 20's and 30's.  I didn't know it then, but, today they'd call me "hot". Who knew?  As a younger woman, I was far more apt to compare myself unfavorably to others vs knowing  that I had something unique and precious to offer, just by being myself, the one created exactly as she was intended to be.  Additionally, I was living for myself, for the pleasures of this life  vs living a life with the purpose that centers me today.

I guess you could say, for me, life really did "begin" at 40.  Or, perhaps, it began anew.  Reconciliation of a marriage, a return to the West Coast, sharing the responsibility of raising a daughter, navigating the trials and tribulations of said marriage and rebuilding a life together through all the perilous curves and detours  along the way.  To say it was often tumultuous would be a gross understatement.  And yet, I knew that I had been called by the One who first called me His own. And so, I persevered, often on my knees, always trusting  that He was faithful despite my weakness.

Thus began the road home. A road littered with both joy and disappointment,  sorrow and  laughter, anger and  kindness, smiles and tears,  but, also a stubborn tenacity.  A road with mile markers called faith, hope and love. Along the way, love grew, prayers were answered, tears cleansed and wounds were healed. We pressed on in faith.  We grew in grace and it was good.

So, when I look back, I wouldn't trade my flats for those beautiful heels, nor the grey for the striking brunette I used to be…not  the extra pounds I've gained for the curves now blurred. I wouldn't trade the life I have, the faith I've gained, the wisdom gleaned or the contentment I feel for the idol known as youth. It's a facade I no longer feel compelled to keep up. I surrender.  I am in a new place, a better place, the right place.  I am not looking back with regret for that which has passed, but, instead,  forward to that which I know will be immeasurably richer and fuller.  It already is.  An unexpected gift. Yes, contentment.

I embrace sixty. I acknowledge,without regret, that any sense of control is most certainty  an illusion.  I no longer expect "happily ever after" but treasure every moment of happiness, knowing it comes and it goes.  I rest in the expectation that my God is in control and I am not.   Entering one's seventh decade is a reminder that life is speeding by and that some traveling partners have, and will continue to, fall by the wayside. There are no guarantees that those I love will continue to walk alongside me or, for that matter, that I will be here to travel with them,  come tomorrow.  With this passing of time, sorrow and loss is inevitable.

Heaven is my destination and I'm headed there, sooner or later. Mostly, I hope it's later, but,  I realize I don't get to choose, when or how. My goal is to be ready when He calls.   For now, as the apostle Paul said, in his letter to the Philippians,  " I press on...forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead.  I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."  I trust (as Paul continued in chapter three) "our citizenship is in Heaven…we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body.." Now that's something to look forward to.

Yes. I am pressing on, delighted to be at this stage of this journey He has planned for me. Grateful for every mountain and every valley, every struggle and every joy.  All have been markers along the way that brought me to this place.  And it's been a beautiful life thus far. A treasure.

So. Very. Grateful.

Grateful, Indeed

Twice Blessed!

The countdown to Thanksgiving begins…In three days, there will be 15 gathered around our table, a smaller crowd than usual, but many of our nearest and dearest will join in. As I contemplate the tasks to be completed, I am reminded of the reason we rejoice…the many things we have to be grateful for. So, indulge me, if you will as I recount some of my greatest blessings…

I'm thankful for all the gatherings around our great, big, white dining table. It's not fancy, but it's massive! We love each one who has surrounded it and are grateful for those who will be with us this holiday and for those who will not... for those who will return and those who have gone on to an eternal feast of Thanksgiving... for every friend, family member and visitor. You are the reason we built this room and purchased this table. You make our home a gathering place enabling us to practice hospitality. We love you for that! #fullhearts

Venice

This is the husband and I, on a trip of a lifetime. It's one we saved,  planned and hoped for over a period of many years. This year it finally happened, at a time when we were able to enjoy it in a way we wouldn't have any earlier.  We experienced Italy, the home of his ancestors, with our favorite travel partners, Dan & Nan, and made memories that are forever embedded in our hearts.  Sigh….. #beyond beautiful




Someone recently said to me, that had he realized how wonderful grandchildren were, he'd have wanted to grow older, sooner.  I concur!  Our Ruby has been a joy since day one, and this year we were blessed with her baby sister, Minnie Eloise.  I could go on indefinitely, but, a picture is worth a thousand words, right?  #therearen't enoughwords

In late summer, we were blessed to be able to share in a family reunion with the Herndon clan, my mother's family, in Montana, AKA, Big Sky Country.  Ruby was able to accompany us and it was pure delight to see her interact with the many loved ones who have so impacted my life.  Spending time there, where I formed such sweet memories with ones I love so much and who have been such a source of joy and encouragement was so big, so rich and so treasured. #homesweethome

She walks the line...

Ru with her new friend at The Thunderball Ranch

Now in my mind, it goes without saying, but I would be remiss if I didn't say it. So here it is, friends:  I owe everything to the saving power of the blood of Jesus.  I am eternally thankful  for His Word, which  fills me up  daily, preparing me for whatever lies ahead.  Also, for His Holy Spirit who comforts, guides and sustains me;  for His church who surrounds, encourages and supports me,  and for His presence which is constant.  This is the foundation of everything that I am or ever hope to be.  My Rock.  With Him, I have everything I need. #well,ALMOST… ;-)

 

I'm exceedingly grateful for His mercy and grace.  This year He has sustained cherished loved ones who have battled illness, grief and loss.  I am thankful for those who remain and for those who have left this world. Full circle. #thisworldisnotmyhome

Thank you Lord, for every gift…

The beauty of creation….

for great art...

for travel and travel partners...

For family  (circa 1965)…
AND...
friends, work, a place to call home, a bed to lie down in, a life that is rich.

Francis Chan said it best….

We're FILTHY rich!

Father's Day

This year, Father's Day falls on the 19th of June. The 20th will be the 3 year anniversary of my Dad's passing. I miss him so. I know that we often magnify people in death, beyond what they really were in life, but, in my Dad's case, it just isn't true. He was some kinda wonderful. I'm thankful that I told him so regularly, when he was alive.

When he was alive, I spoke to him nearly every morning. As I drove to work, I'd dial him up and talk to him, about various things. When I made a sale, he was the first person I'd want to call, because I knew he genuinely shared my joy. He loved to hear stories about my work. Somedays we talked tomatoes- how many we'd each picked the night before, how big and how beautiful and tasty they were. He taught me how to grow tomatoes, you see. He was the master. Sometimes we'd talk about what was on his agenda for the day, or how I was doing at work. Other times he'd tell me how far he'd ridden on his stationary bike that morning. Before his ankles went bad, he used to take morning walks in his neighborhood and he'd tell me how that went.

He touched people wherever he went. Earlier this month, I received a letter in the mail from Angela. She was his waitress at the Early Bird Cafe, where he often went for breakfast. Three years later, out of the blue, she sends me a letter, telling me how blessed she was to have known him and how thankful she was that she did. Who does that? Someone who knew greatness, that's who.

He was a hard worker all of my life. He worked multiple jobs, seven days a week for most of my life. He never complained about not having a day off. Really. I cannot ever remember him complaining. He was up at the crack of dawn and didn't get home until long after dark. But, he did not complain. His first job was helping his dad in the corn fields of Iowa, picking corn and throwing it in a horse drawn wagon.

He had a variety of jobs throughout his life. He worked on the railroad as a brakeman. He collected scrap iron for pay, worked in a lumber mill, as a school janitor, owned his own janitorial service, drove a trash truck and ultimately became the head of maintenance for the Redondo Beach City School District before his retirement.

He was a happy man-a man content with his lot in life, with the blessings he'd been given. He was generous, sometimes to a fault. With his time, his money and his help. He was a helping hand to more people than I can count. Probably to far more than I even know. He was gentle and kind, and long suffering. He didn't expect much from people. He just cared for them and gave himself to them. He was, as a friend would say, "a soft place to land". He was the one who baked a pie for a neighbor, or fried and delivered chicken for his friend who had Alzheimer's and lived in an assisted living community where the food wasn't so good.

He was soft hearted. He loved babies. Loved his kids. Loved my mom. He could easily be brought to tears by simple kindness. The last time he visited my home, he walked into my kitchen, and upon seeing the new room we had built, his eyes filled with tears and his chin wobbled. I'll never forget that. I knew why. He was overwhelmed with pride and happiness for us. That's how he was-always wanting the best for us, and willing to sacrifice to help us get it.

When he was in the hospital, he knew what was coming. He talked to me about cleaning out his shed, and taking care of my mom and even about me getting a new car. He always thought I needed a new car, because I drive my cars for a decade or more, generally. He offered to help. I assured him my car was good and that there's was already money budgeted for a new one before long. It was important for him to know we'd all be taken care of. After he was gone, the shed got emptied. We bought a new car. And-as promised, I'm doing my best to take care of my mom, too. It was the last promise I made to him and I intend to keep it.

For more than half a century, I was blessed with a wonderful dad. I don't wallow in sadness because he is gone. I revel in my "good luck" to have had him for so long. I am grateful for the foundation he provided, the kindness he modeled, the work ethic he instilled and the tenacity he gave to every effort. He molded me. He blessed me. He loved me. Far more than I deserved. I am grateful. But-I still miss him--everyday.

Gratitude: What's all the fuss about?

Decades ago, under the teaching of my Pastor, Zac, I was fortunate to learn the incalculable importance of having an attitude of gratitude. Since that time, it has become a core value in my life and in my daily walk through this world.

Clothed with a sense of gratitude, versus a sense of entitlement, I have come to recognize that without the foundation of thankfulness, I am doomed to the "then I'll be happy" syndrome... when I am out of school, when I can get back to school; when I am healthy, when I have more money, when I am through this trying situation, when I am married or when I am out of this marriage; when I get a new job or when I can stop working; when I have a child or when my children are grown; when I have a better place to live, when I have that new car, or position, or notoriety. You get the picture.

I sincerely believe, that until you grasp what it is to be thankful, you will most likely not experience what it is to be happy. Author, Speaker and Radio Host Dennis Prager first made me consider this in his book, "Happiness is a Serious Problem". His premise is that happy people make a better world and that gratitude is foundational to happiness. I concur. But, I think that gratitude is the more serious problem, not happiness. Grateful people are inherently happy people- pure and simple. If you aren't happy, you most likely don't recognize how much you have to be grateful for. There. I've said it. Sorry if you are offended, but, I stand firm in my conviction. If you don't believe me, ask Corrie Ten Boom or Joni Eareckson Tada or Viktor Frankl , all well known individuals who have suffered more than most of us will ever be called to. Ask my friend Tran, whose son was killed while stopping at the side of the road to help a stranded motorist or, Christianne who will likely spend the remaineder of this life in a wheelchair. Consider my cousins, Dona and Gene, who lost both their mom and their brother in tragic circumstances. Then, there's Cheryl, who lives with pain everyday of her life and my friend Pat, whose sweet Dad suffers from Alzheimer's Disease. Let's not even think of overlooking the the legions of people who have been deeply wounded by either family or friends they believed would never fail them.

Each of these I've mentioned are examples of the joy that comes from acknowledging a God who loves them and believing that He is in control...a God who gave all so that our failures could be forgiven. A God who promises "a future and a hope" (Jeremiah 29:11). That same God who urges us to "enter into His gates with Thanksgiving" and, in all things to "give thanks". These folks are real people who, in the midst of their suffering, choose to live their lives with an attitude of gratitude.

We are all wounded soldiers, aren't we? Some in our bodies, some in our spirits, but, we've all suffered pain and sorrow. Many of us have fallen short of what we hoped to become. All of us have known the disappointments of life. Some of us live with physical pain, others with emotional scars.

Too many of us believe that if the stars would just get aligned correctly, we would be better off. We would bask in the warmth of true contentment. Further, we're pretty sure that, we are just a slight shift in the universe away from being happy. The truth is that if we could truly grasp the wonderful truth that there is a God in Heaven, Who, by the way, really does have it all under control, we could then surrender our frustration, our anger, our disappointment and our fears. We would acknowledge that while we cannot see the future, He can. We could then focus on the good, in this moment. We could rest in the arms of a God we know has promised to work it all for our good. (Romans 8:28) Truth is, happiness is impossible without gratitude. From gratitude springs the ability to recognize that there is much to appreciate in the here and now.

May I challenge you, dear readers, to take on a practice I undertook may years ago?

It's so simple. You can do it. Begin and end each day with an attitude of gratitude.

That's it. Simple, right? There are many ways to make it happen.

For me, it means writing down and/or speaking to God the many things I am thankful for, in that moment, for that day. It may take some practice, but, I promise, it is a learned skill that get's easier with repetition. Yesterday, as I was anxiously anticipating oral surgery, I paused to thank God. Yes, I really did. I thanked him for the ability to have the surgery done, for a good periodontist to do the procedure, for his kind staff to set me at ease, for the funds to pay for the procedure and finally, for the many dear ones who had encouraged and prayed for me. As I gave thanks to the God who provided it all, I was filled peace and calm as I headed off to my appointment.

Gratitude. It's what's for breakfast...and lunch... and dinner. Then, you'll be happy!

And yet, our hearts are broken. Still.

It was Father's Day 2009 and we'd just returned from the beach. I'd gone with my dear friends Rick and Patricia and we stayed at a beach cottage owned by Rick's brother and sister-in-law (and my old friends, Chris and Jacquie). We came home prepared to celebrate Father's Day with a family gathering just on the outskirts of Annapolis.

It was a wonderful day...Chris and Jacquie came with their oldest, Zach. Daughter Olivia hadn't felt well so she stayed home. But, I had opportunity to sit and talk at length with both Chris and Jacquie. So many sweet memories...I'd known Jacquie prior to their wedding and got to know Chris shortly before. Since that time, they had two gorgeous kids, Zach and Olivia, who were both growing and entering their teen years. I'd enjoyed letters and Christmas photos every year.

The day the moving truck came to pack up Amanda & my home in Maryland for the move back to California, (18 years ago) Chris and Jacquie were the ones who showed up with breakfast from McDonald's which we sat in our empty living room and ate together. We talked then about what God was doing in our lives. Their first adoption had just fallen through and they were broken hearted, but they still showed up to wish us well. I told them I believed that God would send them another baby who would be perfect for them, in God's time, and that I knew He would heal their aching hearts and fill their empty arms.

They sent birth announcements when they were blessed with Zach and later with Olivia. Life was good. They built a beautiful home on the water outside of Annapolis. Chris was a well known entrepreneur and had a very successful career. They were active in their church, serving God and reflecting light in their community. God had blessed them.

When we sat down on Father's Day we caught up again...we sat on Rick and Pat's porch and cracked open Maryland Crabs, drank cold beer and reminisced about times gone by. Chris talked to me about a marketing position he was trying to fill and a triathalon he was training for. He was fit, and strong and handsome. He and Jaquie were the picture of God's blessing poured out. Zach came out and visited with me while I cooked peaches on the barbeque for dessert. I shared with him how we all had prayed for his arrival and how excited we all had been when he arrived.

It was a lovely day. And, it was the last time I would ever see Chris, this side of heaven.

On July 24, I had walked to the bank with my granddaughter Ruby in her stroller. My phone rang just after we'd begun to walk home. I recognized Patricia's number and eagerly answered the ring. She'd gone to the beach with Chris and Jacquie and the kids. That morning, Chris, Jacquie and Pat had walked down to the water, the kids still sleeping. They parted ways when Chris went surfing, and the gals went to get some exercise.

There was an accident. Chris was surfing and then, he wasn't. He was pulled of the water and then airlifted to Baltimore. An aneurysm was suspected. Pat was left with the children, to wait and pray.
I dropped to the curb, overcome with fear and grief. How could this be? I got on the phone and called people I knew would pray and put him on the prayer list. I began the walk home, completely overwhelmed, tears streaming down my face. And if ever in life I prayed without ceasing, it was the next 24 hours.

The next morning, Chris took his final breath on earth and his first in his heavenly home. The sorrow was wretched, intense and unfathomable. My heart was as heavy as it's ever been. I kept thinking- these are children who really need their dad...they are at a critical point in their lives...Jacquie is a woman who really needs a husband, she'd endured enough hurts growing up and needed the security of her family intact.

I could not understand. Only a month earlier I'd stayed in their little beach cottage, ate crabs and shared memories with them. He was in the shape of his life, happy, enthusiastic and hopeful about the future, grateful for his blessings. Life was good. He had everything to live for.

I wrote in my journal, "Lord! He loved and served you. How is your will served by this? How can this be good? My heart is breaking for them. It is devastating on a level beyond losing my own Dad...He'd had a long life, an illness, time to say good bye, see his children grown, know his grandchildren and so much more...Chris didn't get to finish the life he'd planned. There were no good byes spoken. He was taken so quickly, so unexpectedly and I am struggling to make sense of it. Help us Lord to bear the sorrow that is so oppressive. Oh God. Help us to receive it and to glorify You in the midst of it, even when we cannot wrap our brains around it."

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. -Psalms 116:15
And yet--our hearts are broken.

I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. -Romans 9:2

In my anguish, I cried to the Lord. -Psalms 118:5

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there will be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying and there shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away. -Revelation 21:4

The spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for prisoners...to comfort all who mourn...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning and a spirit of praise instead of despair. -Isaiah 61:1-3

My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. -Jesus, Mark 14:34

Memorial services were help on June 30th. It would have been Chris' 49th birthday. Then reality began to set in. Now a year has passed. This weekend, Jacquie and her children, along with Patricia, are at that little beach cottage. It has been a long hard year for all of them. They are all learning to live without Chris, and that is no easy task. The work of grieving is not simple, nor is it swift. Declarations of trust in the promises of God have no doubt been given and revoked many times in the last twelve months. The finality of Chris' departure is still more than we can take in.

A whole year--and yet, there isn't much more understanding today than there was then. The shock of it is still breathtaking. It is still incomprehensible. I still cannot see the good in it. But, God has reminded me repeatedly that His ways are higher than ours, and that if He were small enough for me to understand, He might not be big enough to take care of us. I have been challenged to believe, even when I cannot understand.

I was reminded that decades ago, Chris was given a second chance at life. While crewing on a boat with two other friends, it took on water and sunk in the Atlantic. For several days, they were lost at sea, sharks circling and prospects of rescue were bleak until a worker on an Exxon Freighter spotted their tiny raft adrift in the distance. They were rescued and Chris came to know Jesus as Savior and Lord as a result of that experience.

He was given close to three decades more to live. Time to serve God and His people. Time to marry the woman he loved. Time to be a father to Zach and Olivia. Time to share his faith and the reason for his hope. He was living on bonus time. But, a year ago today, that time ran out, and for reasons we still can't comprehend, Jesus called him home. He had time. Not enough in our view, but exactly what was needed in God's.

It's enough to bring me to me knees. Which, I guess, is exactly where God wants me. This is where the rubber meets the road. So, here I am, on my knees, crying out, declaring my sorrow and confessing I still don't understand. Even so, I still believe. Even in the darkness. God is good, all the time. And for that, I am grateful.

New Year's Day

Out with the old and in with the new. Twenty Ten. One of my goals for the new year is to begin this blog, and to document the struggle to maintain an attitude of gratitude in a world that constantly tells us we don't have enough and, that what we do have is substandard and not worth appreciating.

It is a long held belief of mine that to be happy, one must have a deep sense of gratitude; not just for the things we possess, the status we attain, the jobs we hold, the cars we drive, the homes we live in, the people we associate with , the education we complete or the awards on our walls, but for the simplest of gifts and the greatest of gifts, that are not always valued in our culture.

And, so, today I invite you to join me on the road to gratitude. In plenty and in want. May we be like the Apostle Paul who said so eloquently, "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything in him who gives me strength. " ...Philippians 4:11-13 NIV

An attitude of gratitude, a grateful heart. That is the goal.