Between a Rock and hard place...

This has been a very rough week...that would be the hard place. Two hard places, actually. Caring for aging, ill parents and all that entails, helping them make difficult decisions and trying hard to do it with just the right blend of grace and urgency is something of a challenge. The other hard place is caring for, loving and comforting grieving adult children...from a distance. I understand leaving and cleaving and what it should look like at many stages of married life. Helping and at the same time not interfering in both of these hard places is a labor of love like none I have ever known. We are grieving as well. We are heartbroken over the loss of a second precious grandchild in less than a year and the unbearable pain that has brought to their parents. We are saddened at the failing health and growing dependence of two aging saints. Many helpful resources have undertaken to prepare us for this unique aspect of the Second Half, that sandwich place between caring for children, whatever their age and parents. All that reading was only theory...until now.

But we have a Rock. His name is Jesus. He is enough. His wisdom will guide us as we reach out and help. He will show us how best to bandage wounds, suggest alternatives and encourage faith and moving forward.

The LORD is my rock and my deliverer, my God,

my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation,

 my stronghold.

Psalm 18:2

He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.

Psalm 62

Of Pies and People

I might have mentioned once or twice that we really want to be more missional, reach out and get to know our neighbors and yes, ultimately share the good news of Christ with them. How to do that has been something of a mystery. Last week a woman at church mentioned that the holidays are a great time to be more active in our connection to our neighbors as it is just more natural at this time of year. We agree. In fact, we had already decided not to wait until Christmas but to get a head start by taking some initiative at Thanksgiving. Here's a glimpse of what took place in my kitchen yesterday...

We baked pumpkin pies for our five nearest neighbors. We decorated each one and added a card sharing how grateful we are for our neighbors. We had been thinking and praying about this for several weeks. It was a first step, a way to actually meet some of the folks who routinely drive into their garage, bring down the door and disappear inside until they need to venture out again. We prayed over each pie...I know, that sounds pretty corny, but we wanted this to mean something and knew that on our own it would just be food. We hoped to find each neighbor at home. We had only a small window of time to deliver them before the hubs had to go back on twelve hour shifts and we wanted to do it together. We also did not want five extra pies for our own small Thanksgiving celebration!

All five neighbors were at home which is pretty miraculous in and of itself. We were on a roll at the first two houses. Both are home to young families with little ones. They were delighted for any help with their cooking chores and received the pies with gratitude. It's always pretty easy to make pleasant conversation about someone's children. The third house, a neighbor we have actually spoken to on several occasions, was a different story altogether. Oh, they received us warmly enough, just in a very different way. We were ushered into their home, commanded to sit and they began to serve us...coffee, toast, ethnic foods from their home in Pakistan. We enjoyed a cake with herbs baked in along with a very hot red sauce as well as sweet orange rice. What a feast! They did not eat but watched us as we did. I tried hard to recall everything I knew about the customs of these fine folks. Suddenly, I remembered that I still had my shoes on! Never mind they were boots that zip to the knee! I still felt I should take them off. No worries, they said, guests need not do that. Then they began to tell us about their spiritual leader, their beliefs and customs. I wondered if they did so because the perceived that was the purpose of our gift and visit. Were they wrong? Not entirely but we had intended more "get to know you" time before we jumped right to religious beliefs. Well, now we know that they are Muslim. We were given information about how to learn more about their faith and we went right home and checked it out. This undertaking just took on a completely new aspect. Sharing my faith with regular ol' unchurched people is one thing (not that I can make any claims for having done even that!) but I was not exactly prepared for this new twist. God, on the other hand, was not taken by surprise in the least. After researching their particular sect of Islam, I'm fairly certain they are not extremists and that I am in no danger. I am, in fact, fascinated and more than interested in continuing our dialogue.

Our Kenyan neighbors, who greeted us warmly with hugs, received their pie and visit with enthusiasm. They will have a houseful on Thanksgiving and were grateful for the expression and the pie. Our newest neighbor, very northern, was also sweet and we should find an open door there when we return. All in all this was a very successful endeavor, hopefully the first of many. I was nervous, then frightened a little bit, and finally excited that God, in His infinite wisdom, chose to use simple people like us to reach others. I'm not sure if pies have a thing in the world to do with sharing the gospel but it seemed a good plan to me. Jesus did, after all, often use food to begin relationship with people. Food I can do...it's the rest I need a little help with. Thankful for first steps.



Drift

Yesterday I attended orientation for a new volunteer position I'm going to fill at a hospital near my home. I was not particularly enthused about going. Not because I do not want to volunteer but because this orientation is the same one used to familiarize new hires with their new position...the ones they landed and for which they will receive a salary and benefits. I, on the other hand, sat through an entire day of fascinating stuff and will garner only a lovely lemon yellow smock to distinguish me from other folks at said hospital. I will admit, I had a great time, learned a lot and was only more inspired and encouraged to seek employment in a setting like theirs.

I decided early on to take everything I could from this long day of listening. I saw videos of one of the hospitals where my son in health care got his start. I listened to people whose names were familiar and somehow felt just a little less lonely knowing someone I love had been there before me. I met nice people from every department of the hospital. Enjoyed both breakfast and lunch catered by the hospital and came home with a spiffy new tote bag, bearing the name and logo of the hospital. I also learned a great deal about safety, corporate compliance and the Joint Commission. One thing that stood out to me as a particularly professional executive spoke about standards, who sets them, how they are maintained ad infinitum was the concept of "drift." She explained that standards are great, accountability is also great but even in the very best systems, if no one is watching, something called drift happens. That's when gradual, almost imperceptible deviations from the standard take place. We have all witnessed this in one way or another. The truth is, things left to themselves degrade, they do not naturally improve. When I stop paying close attention to what and how much I eat or how often I exercise, slowly (or maybe not so slowly) my weight creeps up. If I neglect my budget and step outside of those boundaries we have agreed upon as a couple, even just a little, before long, I am way off my goal. In the hospital or clinic setting this can negatively impact patient care. At home I can become fat and poor. Other areas of life are influenced by the drift principle as well. If I routinely accumulate stuff I don't need, before too long my home is once again cluttered and I am overwhelmed with, well, stuff. If I neglect to spend adequate time developing and maintaining relationships, all kinds of them, whether it is the one I enjoy with my husband, my God, my children or my friends, I will see the effect of drift. As I survey the future, I am renewed in my decision to avoid drift. How funny that God can use even something as ordinary as an orientation for a volunteer position to speak to the heart. I'm glad I went.

Thirty Years Ago

On this day, thirty years ago, my life completely changed. How I invested my time, my money, the affections of my heart and the thoughts of my mind would never be the same. My priorities, my goals and my dreams were all forever altered, for on that day, I became a mother. Shortly after noon on November 12, 1980, a perfectly precious little boy was placed in my arms for the very first time. He stayed right there (except for the occasional bath and weigh in) for the next thirty six hours until a wise nurse finally convinced me to let him stay in the nursery for just a bit so I could sleep. I spent those hours studying every detail of his face, just taking it all in. Newborns have a very special scent...they smell, well, warm. I marvelled at his wispy hair, his sweet lips, his perfect little fingers and toes. I was absolutely smitten. So much so, in fact, that five more precious bundles would come along over the next ten years.

I was as prepared for labor as I could be and I was blessed to have easy, relatively pain free deliveries. I've actually had headaches worse than childbirth. I have been told, however, by someone who was there, that I did threaten to get up and leave because I was just "done" and had changed my mind about this whole baby thing. Not to worry, I did, in fact, go the distance. (I might have threatened that a few times over the ensuing thirty years as well...just sayin'.)

What came afterward, however, was a complete surprise. I had no prior experience with babies. I had no clue what to expect once the real work of motherhood began. Diapers, sleepless nights, spit up and everything else associated with new babies soon gave way to toddlers, potty training and before long, learning to read, and so on and so on, times six. I was completely unprepared for the all encompassing nature of motherhood. I didn't know how much work it would be, and I don't just mean changing diapers and cleaning up. I was not at all prepared for the real world of motherhood.

I didn't know...

-that I could love someone so much. I still haven't gotten over that.

-that I could be so selfish and angry over things like interrupted sleep. I got over that part, mostly.

-that I could find such joy in little things like first steps, new words, sticky kisses, a warm, clean, just out of the bath kid wrapped in a towel, baking cookies, learning to read and ride a bike, birthday parties and all the other day to day parts of childhood.

-just how many diapers I would change, messes I would clean up, meals I would prepare, loads of laundry I would wash. That I would attend so many dance recitals, football and basketball games, track meets, vocal performances and coffeehouse gigs...not so much of that anymore.

-that I would feel every pain and disappointment and share every joy along the way...that hasn't changed much either.

-that I could pray so hard, so often and so relentlessly.

-that a God-centered family is better than a child-centered one and that it's not about me...I'm glad we learned this earlier rather than later.

-that there was abundant grace for my mistakes and the hard places along the way...turns out God is way bigger than I thought when this journey first began.

-that no matter how hard I tried or how much I wanted it to be otherwise, some of my children would make some choices I might be sad about...it seems I am way smaller than I thought when this journey first began.

-that emotionally tired is really harder than physically tired. Still so true.

-that motherhood is not an equal sort of thing. My children will never be as devoted to me as I have been and still am to them. It is what it is...by the time they are really old enough to "get it" they are married and probably caring for children of their own.

-that I would learn so much about our great God through this endeavor and that by being a mother I would become a better child.

-that the sense of accomplishment and satisfaction found in this job is rivaled by nothing else I've ever done or will do. It is my Magnum Opus.

Thirty years. Where ever did they go?

Bits and Pieces, This and That...

No, I did not fall off the face of the earth. I just got a little busy and life crowded in. So in no particular order here are a few events and observations taken from the last week or so.

-My sweet hubby and I are determined to keep having fun. To that end we carved some pretty awesome pumpkins, if I do say so myself. And we might have used power tools...and one seriously rockin' X-acto knife set.



-The job hunt continues...did not get any of the ones I had applied for in October. In fact got two rejection notices within five minutes of each other. But I'm not bitter! I just keep applying, and praying, and hoping, and reminding myself that I have everything I need and God is never late. My job hunting children have had much greater success and for that I am very grateful. One got her dream job, another got a second job and a third just got a job that will pay the bills. I have a few more applications out, one of which has actually moved beyond the 'applied' status to 'routed', whatever that means. To me it means it did not go directly to the trash but made at least one stop. What a journey this has been.

-I LOVE fall. I love the cooler weather. I love the holidays and the food and the decorations. I love the emphasis on being thankful. I love that most of us have some time off to enjoy one another. I also met my husband in the fall and had my very first baby (and second!) in the fall. It is just my favorite season ever.

-On this day twenty-eight years ago we welcomed that second son, a rootin' tootin', rambunctious, bundle of strong-willed fun. Never a dull moment then, and pretty much the same today. Our lives have been forever changed in the very best way for having him. Happy Birthday, Son!

-The church search has been a wonderful success. Some things in life just take a little perseverance. We found a great congregation about five minutes from home. They actually consider our neighborhood, the one we have a heart for, the one with whom we want to share Jesus, to be part of their sphere of influence. Turns out there is another couple right here who has the same desire to reach out as we do. We will be meeting them soon and hope to partner with them in this endeavor. The church welcomes older folks like us and there seems to be much we can do. We are encouraged on so many levels and maybe just a little nervous. Making new friends can be hard.

- We are going to be grandparents! Gigi and Pops (our self-selected grandparent names) will welcome a new little one in May. Congratulations to oldest son and his wife.

-Mothering adult children is a mixed bag. Not unlike roses, there is plenty of lovely with the occasional thorn. 'Nuf said...

The More Things Change, The More They Remain The Same

Change. Life is full of it. About the time we get comfortable with things one way, they change. Now is no exception for me. All of my kids are grown (or nearly so) and the second half is stretched out before me just waiting to unfold. Then why do I feel clueless as to what that is going to look like or what the next step might be?

I've been seeking God on a number of issues lately. What should I be investing my time and energies in? Are we in the right church? The right ministry? What about a job? I thought I was on the right path in each of these quests only to feel fruitless in my search in all of them. I wrote about the job search, how demoralizing it can be. I wrote about the discouraging meeting we had with a local pastor about how we could serve in his congregation. Since then we have had a wonderful meeting with another young pastor and have a little clearer picture of where to step next. On the job front, however, discouragement is still the key word. Some days it feels like two steps forward, three steps back! I sure would like to know what I should be doing.

I have the privilege, what with six children and all, to receive quite a bit of advice about this season of life. It seems they are all pretty invested in what I choose to do. I like that. Yesterday one of those offspring took the time to talk to me at length about my searching, all of it, not just the job part. He is uniquely qualified to speak to the employment side of things but completely gets that this is not just about a paycheck or benefits package. This is about calling, service and being a good steward of my time and resources. He is also really good at the employment thing because of his own journey. While he is now something of an expert on the subject of employment, he suffered through, like lots of folks these days, months and months of unemployment, followed by underemployment and has endured bad employment as well. Now, he is responsible for employing others in a very large hospital system. He takes it seriously and considers it a calling. He can tell me what to do and what not to do in this arena and I am grateful. After giving me plenty of pointers about specific jobs that might be a good fit, application and resume tips and lots of encouragement, he asked a really pointed question that helped bring the messy of all this into focus. "Mom," he queried "can you remember times throughout your years as a full time mother that you were unsure of what the next step was, areas of uncertainty in your work and life as Mom?" Of course I could. The whole mother thing was one big ball of uncertainly, and plenty of other stages, phases and choices along the way were challenging in that regard as well. "How did you navigate those?" he asked. I had to think back a bit but I remembered reading a great deal. I didn't read just anything. I know not everything in print is sacred or even worthwhile. I carefully chose wise teachers. I asked trusted people in my life for their adivce and perspective. Of course, I prayed...a lot! Usually the path became clearer in degrees, not one bright light. Little things would fall into place making it easier to see what the next step should be. A word here, an opportunity there and before long I had moved into whatever that important place was without too much difficulty. Everything from sleep issues to potty training, how we disciplined and educated our children, dating and teenage issues, college, sending them off as adults and even now, as we face an empty nest have all happened like that. No bolt of light, just step by step, gleaning information, praying, venturing out a little more and the picture became clearer. That wise son reminded me that this season will probably unfold in much the same way. I have been reading. I choose to read wise authors who have been down this road at least a little farther than I have or who have some level of wisdom I do not. I ask people who have made this transition without damaging their families or dishonoring God in the process. I pray...a lot! I try things. I apply for jobs that look like the right fit. I did some volunteering in one setting and now I am, at Son's suggestion, going to volunteer in the place where I hope to eventually be employed. He reminded me that there are two good considerations when seeking the right fit in a place of employment. First, do I feel cared for? Second, can I make a difference here? Hmmmm, I had not been thinking that way. Volunteering should allow me to get a read on that before making a long term comittment.

I suppose this season is really not that different from any other when it comes to seeking and finding God's will and direction. He hasn't changed at all. He still has "good works" for me to do. He is still in control. What has changed, for me at least, is that my children are now sources of wisdom and knowledge in this search. They are no longer just the objects of my care and searching, they are caring for and searching with me. What a joy!

Food! Glorious Food!

I got up this morning to a note left by my youngest, the only remaining child in this home. It said:

All of our food looks flipping good!

Love you both,

J-----

It just made my day, and it was only 5:15! 

As it happens, yesterday was grocery day. Note-writing son was gone all day and into the wee hours this morning so he didn't know that. He dragged in tired and hungry, expecting empty shelves in both the pantry and the refrigerator. Boy, was he ever surprised! Grocery day is a big deal in our household, always has been, guess it always will be. New Food, as it has come to be known, gets a lot of attention. Even kids who no longer live here open the fridge and pantry when they visit. They don't know what it is they are looking for exactly, they just look anyway, and I don't mind. I also get regular texts from oldest son, who lives far away, asking what I'm making for dinner. I think it speaks of provision and care. It is comforting to know we aren't going hungry. We shop every other week because that's how often we get a paycheck. New money makes it easier to buy new food! By the time grocery day rolls around, there are generally some bare shelves. I am usually still quite able to make a meal but no one else seems to see the potential in the motley assortment of products remaining. I am sometimes asked, a little sheepishly, when it comes to slim pickin's, when I'll be shopping again. Based on yesterday's haul, I still haven't quite adjusted to the smaller family size...I think I expect way more people to be eating here than actually do.

We've also made some pretty drastic changes in our eating style over the last year or so. More organic, less processed, more fresh, less junk food. Real food. Clean food. It costs more and usually takes up more room as well. No one minds, really. Eating well has wonderful fringe benefits...at least for the men in this family. They can lose weight without even really trying. The hubs will tell you it is getting harder and harder for him but I still think guys have it easier. But even my girls have an easier time of it than me. I decided after several months of all this good eating (punctuated occasionally by such luxuries as Fro Yo, and then there was the State Fair...) that I still needed to be eating less or differently as I was not dropping the "lbs" like I had hoped. Just because it's all natural or organic does not mean it's calorie or fat free. Am I the only one who has learned that lately? At the loving suggestion of a daughter, I joined her on Weight Watchers Online. Great program, real food, and they were running a special deal. It's so much more fun to do it with someone else, too. I love how easy it is to calculate what to eat and track my progress...until this morning. It was weigh in day. I did not want to weigh in, at least not today. After a few weeks of being a good girl I was sabotaged by a tradition that my sweet husband has apparently established. That tradition would be finishing off our two store, two week grocery shopping extravaganza with a stop at Whataburger. I did not do well. No fries? Check! Diet soda (not pure or natural but calorie free)? Check! Whataburger...with cheese? Bad, bad choice. No way was I getting on the scale this morning! Hubby curiously found that very funny. Commented even on the games we women play. Oh, I'll weigh in...in a few days...when I don't feel so awful about that Man Sized burger. What in the world was I thinking? Wait! I wasn't thinking! I was too hungry to think. I just let him order and ate every bite. One of the reasons the pantry is so full today is I remembered to buy things I could actually eat this time. I forgot that on our last grocery day. I will testify to the fact that celery, lettuce, sugar free jello or SEVEN pretzels do NOT a happy Mama make! Of course I ate a Whataburger! It's a miracle I let them cook it first! Deep breath....OK, I'm fine now. On to the diet. It isn't hard if I plan for it. I've been dieting since I was about eleven. I know the drill. I always make a two week menu and detailed list before our mega shopping trips. I just failed to add in things that worked on my eating plan (such a nicer word than diet!). Now the boys can enjoy their fun foods and I can have mine...rice cakes...popcorn...fruit. Sigh, it's all worth it. One of the things on my "Second Half" list is finally mastering my weight. It will pay big dividends in my future, for me and those who want me around for a while longer.

I love food. I love how it looks, how it smells and how it tastes. I love cooking. I love cookbooks, cooking magazines and cooking shows. I love trying new foods, recipes and restaurants. I love that Mr. Brown and I have started cooking together a lot more. I love that when I go to work he wants to start preparing some meals all by himself. I love how wonderful I feel when I prepare a great meal, simple or elaborate, and serve it up with love. I love it even more when it is healthy food. I also love that my family finds comfort in a well stocked kitchen and enjoys my culinary skills. I am thankful for simple pleasures like good food...and the occasional Whataburger...with cheese.

That Chest Pain Thing

One of the things my hubby and I have decided as we move into the second half is that we will not be the kind of old people who go on and on about every little ache and pain, discussing their latest doctor visit, colonoscopy, or new prescription drug and all of the related side effects. We just won't...not gonna do it...wouldn't be prudent. The downside to that is that sometimes we don't want to say anything when maybe we should. Case in point, hubby's chest pain, shortness of breath event this week that led to a less than pleasant stay in the hospital, at my insistence. After way too many pokes, tests and drugs, along with one very sleepless night, he has been pronounced healthy and we need not worry about his ticker...at least not at the moment. I don't know about you, but hospital visits, for chest pains, for anyone, are troublesome and just a wee bit scary. When it's your very own true love, it can stir up some things. I could not help but think, as I walked alone, in the dark, to my car, still parked outside the ER, what life would look like had this not ended as nicely as it did. Who would I be? What would I miss?

Would I still be the person I am now? How much of what I do and who I am is for his benefit? Is that a bad thing? Would the kids worry about me all the time, checking up on me to be sure I wasn't sitting in the dark, alone? Would I still get dressed pretty every day and put on make-up? Would I make the bed...every day? Would I cook for myself? What about church? I know, I like to think I am a true person, don't we all? How much of what I do is because of who is watching me? What would I want to be sure to continue? What would change? I have friends who have been down this road recently. I am taking notes. I hope I don't need to use them for a very long time.

What would I miss? I would miss the routine of mornings together, reading Our Daily Bread like my grandmother did with my grandfather. I would miss how excited he still gets over the simplest things like a good meal, cooler weather or a lovely sunset. I would miss our walks and our talks. We do a lot of both. I would miss his sheer delight in all things Lowe's or Home Depot. I would miss how he still wants to learn new things like glass etching, wood carving or metal work. I would miss how he will try things he didn't think he would like, just for me...like cruise vacations, sweaters that zip and the State Fair. I would miss his love of fire and how he still runs outside at the sound of sirens or any kind of aircraft overhead. I would miss the way he drives, and that's all I'm gonna say about that. I would miss his tender heart...how he cries at Extreme Makeover Home Edition every single time. I would miss hearing him talk to his kids, on speakerphone, in the living room, loudly! And I would miss listening as he gently coaches them, now that they are all grown and don't need him to tell them what to do. I would miss his wonderful pedicures, a skill he acquired when I was too pregnant to see my own toes and that he continues to this day. I would miss how he always thinks the best of people, calls everyone "partner" or uses their name if they have on a name tag. I would miss how he always checks to see if that stranded motorist is a lady...and tries to help if he can. I would miss his big, strong, muscular hands and arms, made so by decades of hard work, performed without complaint. I would miss his hair, graying but still quite present! So short that you'd never guess, but I know it's curly. I see the same trait in about half of our kids, much to their dismay. I would miss his lack of rhythm but relentless attempts at dancing, another thing he tries to master for me. I would miss his now famous MC Hammer dance. I would miss his quite varied taste in music ranging from Bob Marley to Hillsong and Chris Tomlin to anything by his musical kids to smooth jazz and 70s greats. I would miss the way he always positions himself between me and whatever danger may lurk nearby, be it a mud puddle, an unleashed dog, oncoming cars or just foot traffic. I would miss the way he still opens doors for me, gives me the whipped cream and cherry on top of anything, and calls me at lunch and on his way home from work. I would miss how he calls me "Love." I would miss his collection of magazines, Popular Mechanics, Popular Science, Air and Space...the ones I think are boring, that are all over the house. I would miss how he loves to surprise me with bubble bath, chocolate and cards, lovingly hidden where I will find them when he is not home. I would miss hearing him tell me that he wouldn't want to go through life with anyone but me and that I am his "favorite" wife. I would miss how mad he gets at the dogs but at the same time how he feeds them from the table. I would miss enjoying our as yet unseen grandchildren together. He is already such a softy, picking out sweet little clothes and cool toys. I would miss the humble way he receives criticism, always asking himself if there is any truth in the charge. I would miss watching his unwavering devotion to God and willingness to serve, no matter how small or mundane the task. I would miss the travel we have planned together. There are hundreds of other things I would miss. I could never list them all. I am so glad I would sincerely miss him for in this time there are husbands and wives who would not miss one another in the least. But I am glad, most of all, that I don't have to miss him now.

The Best Empty Nest Guide!

Barbara and Susan's Guide to the Empty Nest

This has to be my all time favorite book on the subject of navigating the empty nest years. Leave it to Family Life Ministries, Barbara Rainey and Susan Yates to come up with a truly great resource for gracefully making one's way through this sometimes treacherous journey. Even the cover makes you just want to pick it up and dive in. (To those of you readers who are miles away from your empty nest years, pretty much anything else by either of these authors will also be worth getting your hands on! Family Life Ministries as well as Focus on the Family are invaluable Christian resources for this or any stage of life.)

Why do I love it? I got it last year in the middle of our downsizing, marrying off, graduating the last little bird stage. We were living in a cramped apartment, waiting for our house to be finished, completing our last year of homeschooling and I was frankly a little less than thrilled to be where I was. I must admit this book elicited as many tears as it did chuckles, but that isn't all bad. I could really relate to the many heartfelt stories these two sweet ladies shared. I so want to be friends with them! I got a wonderful glimpse into their own journeys and even while blubbering along, I felt a little less alone and lot more encouraged that I might actually get through this in one piece and unmedicated!

They covered with humility, humor and enormous scoops of Biblical wisdom, areas I would not have considered until they were upon me. Barbara and Susan really wrote the book together and it reads like a narrative of a coffee date among friends. They explore the loneliness, disappointments, fears and questions about the future for Moms moving into the empty nest years. They explained gently, in a way I could really grasp, the need for mothers to become smaller in the lives of their children as they leave the nest. It is painful but true. Chapters on relating to hubby (who probably won't feel this transition in life as keenly,) adult children and even caring for aging parents provide wonderful insights. They encourage women to continue or reestablish meaningful relationships with friends as well. I'm working on that one.  Having six children and now five more who have married into this big family, there is no way we can predict how many grandchildren we will eventually get to enjoy. These authors, who between them have eleven children and twenty-five grandchildren, cautioned against starting things, traditions, commitments that may not be feasible to carry out to all those grand babies! They are speaking my language. They suggested ways to keep the adult kids connected to you and to one another, without being overbearing, making quality time for grandchildren and engaging wisely in the extended families they represent. Most importantly to me, the ladies remind their readers that life is anything but over at this stage. Several chapters delve into such topics as "Discovering Your New Purpose" and "Changing Your World." I picked up Barbara and Susan's Guide to the Empty Nest again this week (I do that sometimes, read a good book again!) and was surprised at how much has changed in my life even in just a year. Chapters and topics that did not apply to me so much last year are really coming into clearer focus now. They have also provided many helpful discussion topics for talk time with my sweet husband. As if that were not enough, the book is filled with discussion questions and personal application activities. Other women share stories at the end of each chapter as well. The appendixes in the back include several resources to help make the transition even easier, covering topics like checklists for caring for aging parents, developing your relationship with God and cultivating faithfulness.

I have a stack of books and Bible studies on this topic, many are very good, but none are as thorough and at the same time warm and comforting as Barbara and Susan's Guide.... Available at Christianbook.com, Amazon.com or FamilyLife.com. Check it out!



Say what?

A lot has been written lately about missional living. We hear about it at church and in the Christian media. We are currently reading and discussing Radical by David Platt with our Freebirds class at church. We read Francis Chan's Crazy Love last year. Before we started Radical, our Global Outreach Pastor spent three weeks with our class challenging our contemporary American thinking about reaching others with the gospel of Christ and what that might look like to empty nesters like us. Not at all coincidentally, Mr. brown and I had been discussing quite a bit where we were in our church, our lives and our community and what God might be asking us to change or adjust so as to be more "missional." It's funny, I have lived through several different decades in the American church and each one had some sort of watchword or catchphrase. I am not immediately enamored with what people call a particular movement or even with the movement itself. I endured the 80s which touted Destiny as the in thing, the 90s which I think was all about Passion...I guess this decade has been mostly about relevance and being seeker friendly and now we are at the Missional stage. I can do this. People need handles and marketing has really made inroads in the church. I'm old enough to know that if I just sit here for a bit, something new and improved or at least different will come along. None of this has really changed how God speaks to us or how he brings people to Himself. In our marriage, we usually come to points of action pretty much together and rarely are we at odds about what God has for us next. I mentioned to Bill a few weeks ago that we were approaching our one year mark at this big, wonderful church, but that we had not realized some of the goals we had in mind when we arrived last fall. I suggested the idea that we might want to consider that we have enjoyed a good year of R&R and that now it might be time to pursue a little harder what our place is in God's church, to dig in and get busy. We really don't see retirement as part of the Christian's life anyway. At least not as it relates to functioning in the body of Christ. He had been very sensitive when we first arrived that for all of our marriage I had dutifully followed him around in his church leadership roles and made the best of whatever we had been given. It had not always been a pleasant and fulfilling experience. Now, it seemed, I got the chance to make some relationships, find my place, etc. without having to be so conscious of that. We did not have to give consideration to our children's needs either. Nursery, children's ministry or youth group never entered the discussion. After a year, we were settled into a nice, comfortable Sunday morning class for people in our stage of life...Freebirds, early empty nesters. We loved the preaching and the worship. Everything done at this enormous church is marked by excellence, a trait we appreciate...there are about 5000 members, 100 staff, and 173 unique ministries...probably about that many small groups. In spite of that and our fervent determination to faithfully pursue service and relationship opportunities, we have made few real friends, have not found a small group that meets anywhere near where we live, with people remotely our age or on a night we can attend. We have tried to serve in several different ministries and just never got a response. Bummer, huh? Bill smiled and revealed that he had been praying about a change for several months but just did not want to rush me. Sweet man! Well, we considered maybe we needed to find a smaller, possibly younger, church plant closer to home. We knew what that would require. Temporary rental facility, hard, uncomfortable chairs, setting up and tearing down, largely a young congregation and a young pastor and staff...been there, done that, a LOT! We were and are willing to undertake all that again, dig in and be the "older" couple in the church, if that is what God is saying. We also want to serve and worship in our own neck of the woods, if possible. When we share the gospel with neighbors we want to be able to encourage them to visit our church, nearby, rather than driving a half hour or more to the Mothership. Just makes sense. So that's how we found ourselves sitting in the conference room of another young gun pastor, trying to determine if we could be of service to him and his growing congregation. Imagine my shock when...

He made it clear that "churched" people (that would be us, I guess) were not really what he was looking for. They tend to be judgemental and rigid. Not "with it" enough for his Keep Austin Weird kind of church. Hmm?

That in response to what he would see as the most valuable quality an older couple could bring to his new church he said money. No lie! Money? If they are older and mature in their faith, doesn't that go without saying? He did admit that comment was his flesh talking...Buddy, you need to make your flesh be quiet!

We were welcome to come and attend a small group with the other 25 or so old folks like us...this out of a congregation of 400. We didn't really expect there to be many older folks and we fully expected a young pastor. And who wouldn't prefer the theater seating we enjoy now to folding chairs? But he did not honestly expect we would like his church. He suggested we might like another one that was more, well, churchy. Otherwise, we got the idea we would probably just need to sit down and be quiet.

Discipleship really wasn't the main thing at his church. Oh, they did some, through small groups. Small groups are like a marriage relationship, he explained. The first eight weeks are like dating. Once you feel like you are a good fit (whatever the heck that means!) you sign a covenant (like marriage?) But after twelve to eighteen months you disband and form a new group because by then you have "heard all the stories" and it gets stale. So is that like divorce or are we just swapping partners? I am so NOT making this up!

His mantra was "leniency, liberty and grace." Grace I get, but I had to ask if that really meant license. Was he saying holiness was not a quality they were seeking? He pulled out the "churched people are judgemental" thing again. He pretty much justified people in leadership who were in known sin by saying that in a church growing as fast as his, filled with so many unchurched people, they could not afford to be too choosy. Another hmmmm?

His "business model" was derived from Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Covey and a bunch of corporate leadership gurus' books whose titles escape me now. His whiteboard was full of pithy sayings, not all really terrible, but he just seemed to be looking everywhere for the secret to building his "business" except the instruction manual. He had lots of nifty flow charts and acronyms. He could make a really compelling sales pitch but we just could not figure out what he was actually peddling or why.

His mission, he said, is to "reduce lostness" in his "circle of accountability," designated by a section of geography marked on a big map on the wall. Nothing wrong with that, in theory. We need to be able to identify who we are trying to reach and what we are trying to accomplish. He explained that their services are a ton of fun, Minute-to-Win-It games, videos, music rather than worship (cuz that's churchy!) short sermons, more fun! No communion because the whole blood thing kinda weirds people out. So Bill asked if he ever spelled out to all these many converts he's making the concept that when we decide to follow Jesus there is a cost involved. That while salvation is free, discipleship is costly, requiring the surrender of our lives which means our hopes, our dreams, our stuff, our agendas to Christ, you know, that whole "take up your cross" thing. This is not just a "get out of hell free" card. Bill reminded him of all the Christians in the world who find their faith may indeed cost them everything. His response was that "In this culture and context we just don't find that relevant." Again with the "judgemental churched people" (that would be us!) who are just not "self-aware" or was it too much so, I forget.

We made our polite good-byes, walked in silence to the car, rode in silence to our home...and finally one of us asked "So, do you feel about 90 and in need of a walker and a hearing aid!?" I was truly crushed. Bill, being  more reasonable and less emotionally impacted by such events, reminded me that God had actually answered our prayer. We had asked before we went into this meeting, that God would make His will very clear to us. We were humbly asking Him how we could best serve Him and His church. The answer was unmistakably "NOT HERE!"

We are back to the drawing board, after praying off the slime from that encounter, praying blessing on that poor, misguided man and his unfortunate congregation, determined to continue seeking God. It is a fair question to ask how we can be missional. How we can be most effective in our community and in the Kingdom. We do want to "reduce lostness" right here in our neighborhood and our circle of influence, but in a truthful way that speaks to the ongoing needs of a disciple. We were not commanded to "go into the world and make converts" but to make disciples. Maybe that's churchy, but it seems to be the way God wanted it to happen. I just needed to be reminded that a long period of discipleship and faithful service does not make me obsolete, unusable to God and ready to be put out to pasture. We just need to keep seeking. Stay tuned!

Hello. I Love You. Good-Bye.

No, it isn't the world's shortest love story, another new romantic comedy coming to theaters near you or the end of this blog. It is, according to a Yahoo article I read recently, a list of the three most important phrases needed in a relationship. I get the "I Love You" part, especially as it relates to close relationships like parents, spouse, children or maybe even boyfriend/girlfriend. (Not, probably, the Schwan Man.) The other two caused me to stop and think a little more.

I don't recall hearing too much of any of those phrases growing up. I didn't spend much time with extended family and my mother worked most of the time. Comings and goings were without much notice by anyone and we just weren't very free with nice words. Once I met Bill, that all changed. And then once we married and started a family, things changed even more. We said lots of hello and good-bye. Little ones learn bye-bye pretty early if even just to wave (or cry, if bye-bye was seen as a bad thing.) We have always made much of Daddy's arrival home at the end of the day. Squeals of "Daddy's home!" happened like clockwork. Even now, without any children usually here to greet him, the dogs more than make up for it, much to my dismay. I try always to stop what I'm doing and address Bill, or anyone else who enters our home. According to the study cited in the article, not a study by particularly religious people, this practice validates people, makes them feel welcomed and wanted and worthwhile. I hadn't given much thought to the actual practice and why we have it until I read the article. It caused me to think of several instances when things went a bit awry.

Imagine a dropped cell phone call in the heat of an unpleasant conversation. That has happened a couple of times. Both parties are left feeling disconnected (oh, that's funny), maybe even unheard or disregarded, and go through the rest of the day with a less than warm and fuzzy feeling. When that happens, we try always to reconnect even if just to say a proper good-bye and agree to revisit the conversation face to face.

Or think of the times you have said "hello" to someone and they just ignored you. Maybe they didn't hear your greeting, but you think they probably did. I have felt that and it is hurtful.

When my children were very young, mornings were often difficult. I have been in the practice of getting up early with my hubby to prepare his breakfast, pack him a lunch, usually pray together and read some devotional material and see him off. By the time the kids got up, some time had passed. It had already been a long day. They were not always sweet and cuddly, no, sometimes they were downright gnarly, one in particular! Forget warm and fuzzy! I brought this up during an older women mentoring younger women event. The question, posed to me by one of the dear older saints was "Well, darlin', how pleasant are you in the morning?" She so nailed me! I tried a new approach the very next day and have not abandoned it yet. I began greeting my children (and hubby as well) with a bright, cheerful "Good Morning!" They may not have appreciated it for all it was worth but it set a pattern that has served us well. If after my lovely greeting, they continued to cry or grouse around or throw themselves on the floor in a fit, they went right back to bed until they could participate in the day with a happy heart. (the children, of course! Bill has yet to throw himself on the floor in a fit!)  Worked like a charm. Bill even composed a lovely wake up song for our kids that they came to despise during their high school years. On Sundays he would sing them awake, loudly and with much fanfare! Maybe not exactly what the article was endorsing but still quite effective. The most certainly felt acknowledged. Lest you think I have this down perfectly, think again. Those who know me very well at all, may be aware that morning is not my preferred time of day. I do it, day after day (don't we all?) I mean I really do it. I get up, I cook, get dressed, you know...but I don't always enjoy it. On one recent Sunday, when we had to rise earlier than usual to make preparation for a Big Lunch event (more on that in a later post) I simply could not contain my utter distaste for waking up that early. Much thrashing of covers, kicking of feet and spirited declarations of "I DO NOT WANT TO GET UP!" eminated from my side of the bed. Laughter came from Bill's! I did get up and got my happy on but it took a minute or two, and maybe some coffee. Good thing there were no children present to witness that unfortunate outburst.

In some cultures, like that of my sweet Ghanaian son-in-law, greetings are a sign of respect. Not to greet someone properly is considered an affront. George always greets me formally when we meet. He stops what he is doing if I enter their home and speaks specifically to me and to anyone else who has entered. If he has come into mine and I am busy at the sink, for instance, he will position himself directly in front of me, over the bar, so that he may address me respectfully. I always feel honored.

Even now, the lone kid who resides at this address receives a cheerful greeting when he gets up. It may be good afternoon rather than good morning, but it is a greeting, nonetheless. An acknowledgement that I see you and I am glad you are here. The same goes for leaving the house or returning. It's just kind. We don't sneak out without saying good bye to one another. Your presence matters to me whether you are with me or away.

In thinking through this article and study, I realized some good, good reasons for this practice. I say hello, to my family, my friends, even to strangers. I appreciate it when others show me the same consideration. Without that we can all feel invisible or ignored. Maybe that's one reason this job search thing is so hard. Maybe that's why some children are so poorly behaved. To some, even negative attention is better than none. I don't want that to be true for anyone within my sphere of influence. If I can, by simply greeting someone, make their day, or their life, better, I will.

"Hello."
"Hi!"
"Good morning."
"Good evening."
"How 'ya doin'?"
'Sup Dog?... I suppose any greeting will do. Just recognize my presence! (Don't worry, I do NOT plan to start saying "Sup Dog!)

We always say good-bye, always say I love you, when Bill leaves each morning. God forbid, but we never know if today could be the last time we might see one another. The same is true for our kids. They are all healthy, as are we, but things happen. I want the last words spoken between us to always be sweet words. I want to live without regret all the way to the end.

Hello....I love you.....Good-bye!

Simple, easy and free! Something to think about.

Once Upon a Time...

...there was a nice older gentleman and a lovely mature lady who were just a little lonely and had lots of life ahead of them. They had each struggled through some tough times in their pasts but wanted to find just the right someone to share the future with. So they each set out on a quest and before long, in the most unconventional way, they found one another. After a brief courtship, they got married and began an exciting life together. They had not always lived their lives for Christ but now they were and wanted to live the remainder of their lives honoring Him. That lady was my mother and that gentleman is Bob. Aren't they adorable!? No, he's not my dad but he's been a part of my life for a lot longer than my father ever was...going on seventeen years now.

They enjoyed their time together gardening, raising dogs, reading, traveling, working puzzles and visiting their many grandchildren. She was quite the photographer. They enjoyed their church and she even sang in the choir. They worked some but still made time to have the grand kids over, two at a time, for weekend sleepovers now and then. They also made a practice, for many years of taking all the kids to a Christmas movie on Thanksgiving afternoon, since Dad was usually at work. Nonnie (that's how my mother is known to her grand kids) would knit for them, making sweaters, scarves and special hats with the boys' names on them. Their lives had not been easy before they met and as things go, they had their share of difficulty afterward, too. Grandpa can be a contentious old fella, and my mother has learned over the years to just let him go on about whatever he's miffed about today. He may be a challenge sometimes but she loves him, we know he loves her, and for that we all love him. We usually just smile and let him go on, too.

They moved to Arkansas thinking it would be a nice place to retire only to find, after a short time,  that Nonnie's health was failing. They returned to Texas to be nearer family and better medical care. Over the years they have settled into a comfortable pace, marked by many doctor visits, elimination of their jobs and other activities in favor of matching recliners, more word puzzles, reading and television. Going to church has been dropped from the routine as well. It is just so much trouble for them to get there. Nonnie still knits but not as much anymore. The kids are all grown so sleepovers and movie dates have fallen away. They visit us when they can and we make the occasional visit to see them. They have two cute little lap dogs to keep them company as well as a parakeet. Life has slowed down and they have become the prayer warriors of the family. I get a call about every week asking for updates for their prayer list. Each child's needs are listed and I know they spend a great deal of time praying for every member of this ever growing family. At our last big get together, Nonnie gave each child a little card with her e-mail address and phone number and called it Nonnie's prayer hot line.

About a year ago, Grandpa was diagnosed with cancer. He has undergone two grueling rounds of chemotherapy and six weeks of daily radiation treatments. He had a PET scan this week to ensure that the treatments had done their job. Not only have they not eliminated his cancer, it is worse. He called to let me know today and to ask us to pray. Cancer is not his only medical challenge.

I am sad for them. Sad that after all these years they have found happiness with each other and with God and that they are suffering so in this season of life. Their bodies are just not serving them well anymore. I don't know how much more Grandpa can take and he is the stronger one. I know they must be frightened. We have noticed him being more sensitive, even tender lately, saying things he wanted to be sure to say. He reconciled with his estranged children and has begun finding new homes for his treasured possessions. I worry about my mother. She has never done 'alone' very well. We bought this house understanding we may need to care for an aging parent one day. I did not think it would be anytime soon. I hope I'm wrong, that the doctors are wrong and that Grandpa has many good years left, years to be spent with my sweet mom by his side.

But that's not the end of the story...we won't know what that looks like for a little while. What we do know and that bears telling is that these two weary souls, while coming to an end of this earthly life, have made sure of the future life waiting for them. They have come to saving faith in Christ and rely on Him. No matter what the outcome is, next week, next month or next year, their eternal future is secure. I am glad they found one another, and that they are both walking with God for it is then that we can say....

They lived happily ever after!

Ready...Set....GO?

I have been giving serious consideration to re-entering the work world since just before my last child graduated from high school. In fact, he would sometimes catch me looking at job postings online and remind me that I wasn't finished raising him yet. "Will I ever really be finished?" I wondered. Will I ever not be a mother, concerned about whatever concerns my children, no matter their age? I'll let you know when I find out.

I had several reasons for thinking about going back to work. I only worked a few years before becoming a mother and have not accumulated sufficient Social Security credits to expect any benefits when that time comes. Of course, we may all be wondering if we should be counting on that, no matter how long we have been in the workforce. The recent economic downturn made quick work of our retirement account. I would like to help build that nest egg back up and maybe even pay off the house (OK, I do dream big!) Probably the most important reason for considering a job outside my home is that I just have too much time on my hands now that the children are all grown and I think I still have a number of good years left. I find I am a bit lonely, sometimes, and might enjoy having co-workers among my circle of friends. Once, when I was filling in for my Nanny daughter, I made a list (I love doing that!) of all the things I hoped our empty nest years would be, goals we would like to pursue and characteristics and qualities I would like to find in a job that would contribute to fulfilling those goals, rather than interfering with them. That list is a little tattered and smudged after eighteen months in my purse but I pulled it out before I began my job search in earnest.

Together, Mr. Brown and I decided that a part time position would be better than full-time, at least until he is able to transition into a more regular Monday through Friday schedule. He currently works twelve hour days every other Wednesday and every Thursday, Friday and Saturday. He is always off Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and every other Wednesday. He has been doing this for twenty one years and it has worked beautifully for our family. I am used to it but now that I am the only one home most days, those days feel even longer. It has gotten harder for him, too, as work has increased and available employees have decreased. We hope that in a few years he can find a second career that is not quite as high pressure and demanding and fits a more regular Monday through Friday lifestyle. I do not want for us to become two ships passing in the night and find myself working while he is home and vise versa. This first consideration has limited my job possibilities quite a bit. It seems there just aren't many jobs that fit my unusual schedule requirements. I also decided, with hubby's enthusiastic support, that I do not want to cook, wait tables, chase babies, wrangle teenagers, clean houses or do anything with clothing. I think I have done plenty of that. Nor do I want to work in a fitness center, tanning salon, spa or cosmetic surgeon's office, thank you very much. I would like to be proud of where I work not spend my days wishing I looked younger. My skills, at least the ones asked about on applications and filling space on my resume, lie largely in the clerical and administrative zone. I want to work in a nice place and have a reason to get dressed up each day. I am not too concerned about what I earn but it needs to be enough to make it worth buying those cute clothes, a car, gas and insurance for that car and hopefully have a little something left over each month. So far, so good...or so it seems.

As it turns out, jobs are not just laying around for the taking. Schedules don't line up, the drive is too far or I just do not possess the necessary skills. Furthermore, the entire application process has changed completely from when I found my last job. Back then, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I went to the UT employment office, filled out an application, with a pen, not a computer, took a typing test, reported for an interview and was hired the next day. Done! Now, I search high and low for a job that even remotely matches my skills, I fill out pages and pages of an online application, attach (with no small degree of difficulty) my carefully crafted resume and cover letter, hit submit and watch all my work disappear through a wire into the ground (My oldest son told me that's what he thinks happens to online job applications and he should know.) Never will I know if it actually reached its intended destination or receive any word as to the status of that job. I learned my new found job hunting skills from my very able and experienced children, one of whom pretty much runs the Human Resources department of a large hospital system in a very large city. I had my resume built by a professional, my cover letters are customized to each job for which I am applying, my references are impeccable, if a little old. This has to be one of the more demoralizing experiences of my life. I suddenly have a much greater appreciation for all the job seekers out there. I take great comfort in the fact that all of my needs are met and I do not need this job to feed my family or keep a roof over our heads. Thank You, Jesus! I knew it was hard to find work, I just had no idea how very sad and overwhelming the application process could be.

I finally had my first walk into a brick and mortar building, look someone in the eye, fill it out with a pen application experience this week! I had been counseled to jump on these opportunities quickly as they are few and far between. It took quite a while to fill out the paperwork, which was not the same as what I had seen online, by the way. I was able to speak to two different employees at that time and then had to go back later in the day to sign one more form. As it turned out, I met the person who would be my supervisor on the last visit. We had a previous, and positive connection, as I do business with this company regularly. I was so charged! Finally, some forward progress...then it happened.

I began to second guess my every choice. Did I wear the right clothes? I know I looked cute, but too "cute?" Were boots OK? Was my hair current enough or not enough? How about my make-up? Do I need a makeover? Was I too enthusiastic? Did I seem desperate? Talk too much? Too little? I was shaking like a leaf filling out the application. Was my handwriting wiggly? Did I misspell anything? Maybe I can't do this job...maybe they want someone younger, thinner, smarter...what if, what if, what if? I might as well have been standing in that lobby naked for all the confidence I had. I so hope no one could tell! For thirty years the little people I have been working with have pretty much thought I was awesome, no matter what. At least that was true until their ages ended in anything-teen. My supervisor thought I was pretty grand as well, and still does. I heard everyday what a great job I was doing. I didn't have to prove myself to anyone, especially on one sheet of paper or one line of an application. Whew...remind me again why I thought I could do this?!

I hope to get a call back for an interview soon. I hope I can conduct myself in that interview in such a way that someone will give me the chance to show them what I can do, that I can learn, that I am trustworthy and hard working. I hope I don't faint or throw up or cry....I'll let you know.

There are some things money can't buy...

Tissues............................................................$ 1.00
Pumpkin Spice Latte........................................$ 3.75
New dresses...................................................$79.00
Sunday drive (gas)...........................................$ 5.00
Holdin' hands and Kickin' rocks...........................free

Comforting a blubbering, hearbroken, hormone-crazed, almost empty nest wife and mother............Priceless.

There are some things money can't buy.........a husband like mine is one of them.

Holdin' Hands and Kickin' Rocks...

...we've been doing this for many years. It's that walking, strolling thing that couples do. It isn't about fitness, not physical fitness anyway. It's about being close and staying in touch. It's not about the destination but about enjoying the journey. It started as our relationship began, walking around the neighborhood where I lived. We branched out to the only mall we had at the time, Highland Mall. We had little money for dates so window shopping and dreaming could easily fill entire Saturdays. We walked through Bastrop State Park, Zilker Park and the Town Lake hike and bike trails. Even our honeymoon included lots of holdin' hands and kickin' rocks because our little car broke down on the way to exotic Corpus Christi and spent the entire trip in the shop. Not only could we venture out only as far as we could walk, we then had no money to spend so walking just made sense. We spent hours on the sea wall, taking in the sights, sounds and scents of the ocean. We have been back several times since and reliving that particular walk is always on my list of must do activities. Once we were married we walked through the neighborhoods surrounding our apartment community and all over the UT campus on workdays. We continued our strolls after we moved into our little house. We enjoyed watching all the other little houses grow from the ground as if by magic. We were even known to walk away long evenings waiting for the arrival of a baby. We walked through one entire night of labor, wearing tracks in the carpet on the Women's floor at South Austin Medical Center. We thought that little one would never arrive! She did. We also comforted colicky babies, taking turns walking and bouncing that little bundle, up and down the sidewalk in front of our home. As life got busier, our walks took place with  less and less frequency. We would sometimes tell the other "I miss holdin' hands and kickin' rocks." Other times, we took a walk out of sheer necessity! Life had a way of crowding out those little pleasures. When we walked we always held hands, that way neither was left behind. We usually talked, too. Sometimes about nothing, other times about huge things, hopes, dreams, disappointments and worries. Often we walked quietly at first, decompressing from the events of the day. Other times we prattled on about everything that had happened that day. We discovered it was very hard to stay angry while holding hands and walking side by side. I think if we should ever find ourselves providing marriage counseling again, we will require a daily dose of "holdin' hands and kickin' rocks." Some of the couples I know who quit on their marriages might not have if they had taken the time to hold hands and walk every day.

We've found these times again in this season of life and not just because we aren't amusing ourselves with technology but because we missed it and want these connect points to be an integral part of our second half. We have really come to enjoy our after dinner strolls and miss them if weather or some other obstacle gets in the way. There are new homes going up...like in the beginning. We love watching the moon and stars, hearing critters talking to one another and smelling the first vestiges of fall. We hold hands, always. We talk. Sometimes we talk about the kids and sometimes that leads us to pray about the kids. Sometimes we dream aloud, like before, of things we want to do in our future and of who we want to be. We reminisce, too. "Remember when we walked after the cancer diagnosis and needed to be reminded that life is more than sterile walls, needles and drugs?" or "Remember how we walked together until we had a plan for this or that problem?" This journey has been very worthwhile. I hope we are able to continue this holdin' hands and kickin' rocks until Jesus takes us home.

Leftovers

This is not a post about food, but about a completely different kind of leftovers. We have had the joy of raising six wonderful children and releasing five of them into the wild or the world, or well, into marriage, at least. They did not, however take all of their belongings with them. We have gobs of things that belong to our adult children. Things like awards, yearbooks, trophies and medals. We have a violin that needs a new bow, an entire box of sparkly, shiny dance costumes and a pile of VHS movies that, in all likelihood, no one will ever be able to view. We can't throw them away, you see, because they are "classics." We have done quite a bit of weeding out as we downsized to a smaller home last year. We were able to sell the motorcycle and welding rig one son just had to have...until he joined the Navy. That boy's extensive gun collection and the huge gun cabinet it occupies went to stay at a brother's house. They can sort that one out between the two of them. I mailed Navy Son's impressive John Wayne movie collection to him recently. I hope his sweet wife is not mad at me! I think I managed to get  the prom dresses to the right girls but I purposely held onto my most treasured home school curriculum and resources for the one or two of my children who may pursue that in the future. I wrote earlier about the pain of distributing things like diplomas, birth certificates and social security cards to their rightful owners. It's funny to me that most of these items carry such value to their respective owners that they cannot be disposed of, yet no one wants to claim them and take them to their place. I still come across little things on a fairly regular basis that should probably be taking up space in someone elses's home and life, most notably the two furry mutts who still live here!

We have never really been dog people but we felt, sometime long ago, that caring for pets would be good for our kids, you know, the feeding, walking, bathing, cleaning up after them routine. Imagine our surprise when those puppies did not pack up and move when the kids did! One long, quiet, maybe even a tiny bit boring evening recently I discovered my dear husband having quite the animated conversation with our smallest, yappiest dog.

"Is that so?!" He asked.

"Yap, Yap, Yap....."

"What's that, Lassie? Timmy's stuck in the well?"

"Yap, Yap, Yap, Yappity, Yap...."

"Again?!"

"Yappppppppp!"

This went on for some time and while it doesn't take much to excite a chihuahua, I guess being without a TV had really begun to take it's toll on Bill! I declared that we had become officially old, sitting alone in our house carrying on conversations with the dogs. I was informed that we were not, in fact, old because we were entertaining "leftover" dogs, dogs left behind by their owners, not to be confused with new dogs. We would be old, hubby declared, should we go out after being child and dog free and procure a new dog to occupy our time. That...will...never...happen. Since we dodged that one I'm glad to report that we are not officially old just yet.

I really don't mind the leftovers, not all of them anyway. I like reading the sweet letters and homemade cards my kids have written to me over the years. Baby books and photographs are always fun to look through. I have a very small denim jacket in one of my dresser drawers, a gift from a grandpa, long gone to a sweet toddler son, now grown.  I have no plans to ever give that away. I have a few locks of hair, a baby shoe or two and a tiny string of pearls I am saving for the day that daughter's little girl, whoever she may be, can wear them. Memories take up very little space and to my delight, those leftovers do not shed...or bark.

TV or Not TV, That is the Question!



Our dear old television gave up the ghost a couple of weeks ago. Alas, it had served us well. Our first reaction was to run right out and see what it would cost to replace it. It was, after all, nearly the big week when all of our shows come back on after the long summer break. We happen to have this lovely Crate and Barrel entertainment center, the focal point of our living room, that just begs for a nice big TV. And besides, what else are we supposed to do with all of our time?

TV for us has been an unusual cultural experience. We started our marriage thirty three years ago with a tiny little set. So small, in fact, that we had to sit one in front of the other to watch it. That worked fine since we only had one chair in the living room of our first apartment. One of us would sit in the chair and the other on the floor directly in front. We would switch places at commercial breaks. It worked just beautifully, thank you very much. We had televisions at several points during our early years and even the first few years with kids only when we had someone living in our home who brought one with them. We did this with fairly regular frequency. We had each of our younger brothers for a season, a pastor and his wife without work, one of our children's nursery workers who needed some TLC and even a dad who had just kind of lost his way. When they came, no matter how dire their situation, their belongings almost always included a TV which they were more than delighted to share with our family. It was not until we had four children that we actually went out and purchased a television. At that time we were homeschooling and chose a small set with a built in VCR. Remember VCRs? We used it mostly to watch videos. We were very careful about what television shows our kids watched. Well, I will admit that we let them watch the original A-Team but not much else until much later on. I hated Sesame Street but would allow Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood but that's a whole 'nother post. We would often put the kids to bed and then have an at home date. We would watch a movie, fold clothes together or just enjoy popcorn without benefit of kids. It worked well. A bit later we graduated to a bigger TV when Dad decided the kids were old enough for Nintendo 64. That TV lasted many years, through the whole Clinton scandal, Saved by the Bell and even Boy Meets World. The kids love to remind me of how we often had to discuss what we had seen on a particular show. One remarkable memory involved one of the last episodes of Boy Meets World when Cory and Topanga contemplate having..."the sex," as it was known to our children. They decided against it because they just didn't think it was the "right time." I made very sure that every one of my kids learned that the only right time was after they were married! At least one of the kids remembers that event well enough to tease me about it now. I guess I may have been a bit rabid at the time. I wish I could say I was sorry, but I just can't. We tried really hard to make sure whatever we watched would not harm our kids, or violate scripture but we tried not to be preachy. It wasn't always just about bad words or too much skin. We were alert to shows that made parents or any adult look stupid and untrustworthy or fostered attitudes we wanted to avoid. TV continued to play a secondary role in our home for a long time. We rarely had a set in the living room, preferring to make it fairly uncomfortable to watch for very long. We had limits on content and how much time anyone spent watching. Unfortunately, at some point, the one-eyed monster found its way into our living room. Dish Network followed pretty quickly afterward. We were caring for a child with cancer, which meant lots of down time,  but once that set and all that programming came in it was very hard to get it out. We sent that big, clunky TV with one of the boys when he moved out on his own. It was replaced  by a sleek, new flat screen model, a gift from a son and daughter. It made a couple of moves with us and served us well, providing hours of entertainment both through broadcast television, DVDs and Wii tournaments. As life slowed down with the departure of our children we found that we were watching TV more and more. I had even begun to watch daytime television during those long fourteen hour days alone, something that had never been part of life for me. What had I become!? Oprah?! Seriously?! I know lots of "older" folks watch lots of TV. They may even do so from the comfort of their matching recliners. I did not envision that for us, certainly not this early into our Empty Nest Journey. I didn't like where this was going. I could feel the gentle nudging to reconsider this major purchase. It didn't hurt (or maybe that's exactly what it did) that we have family members and friends who are unemployed or underemployed and that we have a child who has the opportunity to go to a very faraway place and help lead worship for 45,000 people. How could we justify spending hundreds of dollars on a new TV when we could do so much more with it. And furthermore, all those new shows we were waiting to see? Every last one seemed to have slithered into the yucky place while we weren't paying attention. I loved House and Bones, Castle and CSI. The Mentalist and NCIS and even our silly SciFi shows. But now, a good crime story is just not enough, its all about who is sleeping with whom! How is this in any way adult? Again, not preaching. But for us, it just doesn't fit with the life we are and have been trying to make for all these years. It doesn't really fit with the whole "I will set no worthless thing before my eyes." concept. I don't want to spend my life staring at the TV and I don't want to become dull of spirit. I want to love what God loves and hate what He hates. I don't want to find myself rooting for the cute couple to finally "hook up" even though they aren't married, or at least aren't married to each other! I want to be grieved by that. Silly reality shows, talent competitions and what is up with the vampires?! I just can't really find anything worth our time.

OK that all sounds really nice, huh? Well, it turned out to be way harder than we thought. I don't know what withdrawal from drugs or alcohol feels like and I would never want to trivialize such a thing but this was no picnic. The last couple of weeks have been tough. We just couldn't really find anything to do, especially me, on all those dreadfully long days. And seriously, I have this beautiful entertainment center. What am I going to do with that? Bill had offered to take the broken TV out the day it died but I said, "No! That would leave a big, ugly hole in our living room." Finally, once we decided we would not be returning to TV Land anytime soon, I gave in and let it go. Last night we disconnected all those cables and wires and hauled the sad set to the garage. We got rid of the DVD player and packed up the Wii. We also came up with what I think is a reasonable solution for the spot left vacant.



Before we got to this place in our marriage, we talked a lot about how we wanted to spend these next fifty years (OK, maybe fifty is a bit optimistic, but humor me.) We wrote things down. We made lists of some of the things we used to like doing but that got crowded out because of time or funding constraints. Maybe we just forgot to do some things. We included things we have never done but always wanted to try. I went back and looked at that list and it did not include watching a lot of TV. Oh, we may get one again some time in the future and we know we can hit up one of our nearby kids if we just really want to see a game. We don't think TV is necessarily sinful, it just isn't for us right now. So, TV or not TV? The answer for us right now is no.

Faith for More than Money

I shared some of the wonderful ways God cared for us financially through our early walk of faith. I would not want to leave the incorrect impression that our faith was stretched only in the area of provision. While he fed us in unusual ways, and saw to it that every bill was paid, that was not the only way He showed up for us.

The men of our church went on a retreat in the midst of this adventure and I had the opportunity to spend the weekend with a friend who had a couple of young kids. What a treat! I really did not like staying alone at the time. Learning to do that without being a scaredy cat came much later! We went to the park, the pool, Whataburger (a real Texas institution!) and I learned volumes about parenting from a Christian perspective. After the men returned and I was safely home with my hubby, that sweet mama called to say her kids had come down with the German Measles! I may have mentioned I did not, at the time, have an immunity to that particular disease. It is not a good thing for pregnant moms to be exposed to German Measles during pregnancy and we were taking steps to remove that risk when we found out about our new baby's presence. Let's just say the outcome for the baby can be less than wonderful. Funny, I don't recall being particularly anxious about her news. Maybe it was just that I didn't know enough yet to be afraid. Maybe I have just forgotten. We did, however, call our doctor the next morning and he asked us to come in later in the week. After some testing, he met with us in his office and explained the possible problems we might expect and that we had a couple of options. Only one was acceptable to us and that was to complete this pregnancy just as we had always planned. He was a kind man who knew enough about us to know that no other choice would even be given any serious consideration. I remember the drive home being pretty quiet. Of course, that sweet, Measle spotted family felt horrible. They could not have known and I could not just hide out in my home for the entire pregnancy. We just moved forward and prayed all the time for the health and safety of our baby. We were blessed to be in a church led by a pastor who was quite familiar with special needs children. Two of his four children fit into that category and the nursery even had a special ministry to special children and their families. I took great comfort in the fact that if God had selected us to raise a special needs child, we could not be in a better place to do that. We were at peace, most of the time, but there were moments when we had to fight off the worry. Would we be able to parent a child who might be blind or deaf or retarded? I had not, until that time, even considered that to be a special calling. These thoughts occupied quite a bit of my time.

In October, just a few weeks before the bay's due date, Mr. Brown was to be ordained as a deacon. This event was marked by a meaningful ceremony in which all the deacons being ordained knelt and all of the ministers and deacons of the church laid hands on them and prayed blessing over the men, their families and their ministry to the church. When Bill's turn came, the head of the deacons, a man who had been an example and blessing to us, leaned over and whispered in his ear "I have seen your son and he is whole." Bill waited until we got all the way home before he told me that. You have to know this was a fairly traditional Baptist church, not charismatic in any way. This kind of thing just didn't happen. We didn't really know what to think but the day to day trust in God for every dollar, every meal and now the health of our unborn baby, sure made us open to hearing God in unusual ways. Hmm, maybe that has something to do with why we experience such challenges. I'm just sayin'. We didn't tell too many people about this event and in just a few weeks we would all know if that sweet man had really heard God or not. The excitement built and built. Due date came and went. Finally, sixteen days after his October due date, well into November, that perfect little boy entered the world. We had not known his gender before the deacon ceremony. We had not known he would be without birth defects. We had felt the tender love of God as this man went out on a limb and shared that with us. Our faith was built even further. We have recalled this event to one another many times during the long years we have spent raising that son. When his life was threatened, we remembered how much trouble God went to to protect him and to even tell us about it in advance. Surely he had a plan for his life.

All your sons will be taught of the LORD;

And great shall be their well-being.

Isaiah 54:13

I Have Been Young...continued

I don't recall how we informed friends and family of our decision for me to just quit my job and stay home. I do remember that by the time I actually finished my last two weeks I had been asked to stay on in other jobs at higher salaries. The offers were only a little bit tempting. We were pretty stoked about our walk of faith. It had not really cost us much yet as I would still receive one more paycheck. Those last two weeks flew by and on the first day of staying home I took Bill to work so I could grocery shop and run some errands. One of those errands was to the doctor's office. We had been thinking about starting a family but not for a while. I had never had German Measles and needed an immunization for that. I guess we really should not have been surprised that on top of the adventure of living on a reduced salary, we would now be adding another member to our family! Yes, on the first day at home, I found out were were expecting. I picked up two candles at the grocery store along with the ingredients to make a special dinner. We were celebrating! Celebrating the first day of a new way of living and of a new life as well. We still find ways to celebrate lots of things, great and small. I put those tapers, one pink, one blue, on the table and didn't say anything until we were sitting down together. Then I broke the news to Bill. He was thrilled. We both were. We were, however, also just a little bit more nervous about what the future would hold. Our adventure just got a little more exciting. We had health insurance, to be sure, but it was the 80/20 kind so we would be adding a monthly payment to our already insolvent budget. We would also be adding the usual expenses associated with having a baby. We had no idea how we would buy maternity clothes, baby furniture, clothes, car seat, etc. but we knew God had not been taken by surprise by any of this. The ensuing months were filled with expressions of God's tender care.

As had been our practice throughout our nearly three year marriage, when the paycheck arrived we wrote out our tithe check. Then an offering to a young missionary couple. We had committed to this before hearing God call us to this faith walk. We had not heard Him tell us to stop making that monthly payment. We then paid all the non-negotiable bills like mortgage, car payment, utilities, etc. Whatever was left was for gas for the car and food...for the entire month ahead. Yes, we got paid once each month. The first month without my paycheck was quite a shock. Even after eliminating all unnecessary items, our budget still didn't work on paper. There was nearly no money left after paying the bills. Enough money for one tank of gas, no money for food. We just looked at each other and then prayed...hard. We didn't tell anyone the specifics of our situation. Our small group knew of our faith walk. Our mothers knew. Most importantly, God knew. We reminded ourselves that we were trusting God. "Sink or swim, we were going on with God." The next day was Sunday. After church, our friends all went out to lunch. We went to our car to head home and make do with whatever we could scrounge. In the front seat was an envelope. It contained $30, a veritable fortune at the time. We went to the grocery store and very carefully purchased as much as we could on that amount of money. We took our treasure home and enjoyed a modest lunch together. This was only the beginning. The coming months held numerous blessings such as this one. We never learned where that money came from. We would sometimes find envelopes in the mailbox. They would contain different denominations of currency. We began to make a game of it. Bill would call from work after he thought the mail had arrived and ask if any presidents had come to visit. If they had, then he would try to guess the dollar amount by the president that appeared on the bill. We enjoyed visits from Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin and  Andrew Jackson. We didn't get money every week. Only when we really needed it. Sometimes it was food, bags of it. Sometimes it didn't come in the mail but showed up like the first gift, in our car. Sometimes it was neither but something else special like the dresser a sweet older couple from church purchased from a garage sale. They refinished it and delivered it to us for our baby's room. A grandmother sent money for a crib. An aunt sent a box containing all the baby things she had saved from her daughter, now grown. I remade the curtains into whatever I needed to outfit the new baby's room. We had wonderful, generous baby showers. Our baby lacked nothing. When we found ourselves up against a financial obstacle, which happened with some frequency, we prayed. Once, we needed money again and were reminded that we each possessed gold class rings. This was the beginning of the 80s and gold was, well, gold! These rings were worth considerably more than when they were originally purchased. We had not purchased them for ourselves, however, and felt that we should ask those who had purchased them  if we could sell them. My grandmother and Bill's mother were more than willing for us to turn them into the cash we needed to get through the next few steps of the journey. We were delighted to be able to use those funds to make the obstetrician payment, buy groceries and gas for an entire month. The next month brought new challenges and new expressions of God's faithfulness. We received duplicate insurance reimbursement checks. Checks the insurance company did not want to try to take back. Not at the time, anyway. We were instructed to keep them and if they wanted the money back, they would let us know later. Not once did a bill go unpaid. Not once did we go hungry or not have money for gas so Bill could get to work. We did not lose our home after all. The baby's room was ready. The doctor had been paid. When the balance of my teacher retirement account came after the six month waiting period had passed, we used it to pay off our car loan. Finally! A bit of breathing room in the budget. We still had no discretionary money. It was still going to be very hard to make it on the amount Bill brought home each month and he was faithfully looking for a better job. The baby's due date came and went. At last our precious boy arrived! While Bill was on leave caring for me he received a call to interview for a job he had been hoping would open up for some time. Less than a month after our son was born, he began that job and is still enjoying it today! Who does that!? Our God, that's who! We have had numerous difficult financial places through the years as we have remained committed to having me at home full time. The high tech industry, in which Mr. Brown works, has been  fraught with downturns, lay offs and pay cuts. We have learned to live frugally and take joy in small things. We have never stopped crying out to God when the money didn't stretch as far as the month. We have never stopped paying our tithe first, our bills next and letting God feed us. We have never been without. Of course salaries increased over time. So did the number of people in our family and the expenses required to care for them. I just might share more faith stories in future posts. This story was only the beginning, a taste of what was to come. We're still swimming, not sinking. We have been young, now we are old(er)...but never forsaken.