We’ve come to the end of another work week. It’s Friday, and many of you are thanking God for that fact. I’m thanking Him for getting me through another week. When you’re in the “golden years,” it supposed to be smooth sailing through the rest of your days – right? Well, as we all know, life isn’t like that no matter what age you are. There will always be stress – that is until our life ends, and we enter heaven. In the meantime, what do we do with that frazzle dazzle?
I could bore you with a day-by-day account of what’s happening in my life right now, but my job is to encourage and inspire – not discourage and expire. Life can be overwhelming at times. Some of those times are worse than others. If we let the tough times pile up, we’re left with a ton of baggage on our backs. When you get old, the weight of that baggage can drive you right into the ground – literally.
These golden days can quickly become tarnished and worthless. If you add all the life changing events that we face on a daily basis, there is bound to be stress. If you try to lighten that load by turning it over to Jesus, it can relieve the burden, but our human nature will eventually cause deeper problems. It isn’t easy to simply let go and let God do what He does best. It takes a great deal of courage to do so, but with His help you can do it.
l Peter 5:6-11 “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you,casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.”
In other words, don’t sweat the small stuff – or the big stuff either, because God has this. He knows what we’re going through. He is right beside us all the way. His only Son, Jesus, experienced pain, suffering, humiliation, shame, degradation, torture and death. God loves you. He will not leave you. He will carry the burden for you. He won’t let you fall. He is your Redeemer and Comforter. Today you can be confident that He is in this with you. He will not let you suffer more than you can handle. Trust that promise. Give thanks for it. Oh, and by the way, did you know that the word, “stressed” spelled backwards is “desserts?” Go have a piece of chocolate cake.
As I sit in my own “farm” house in the city of Anoka, I can’t help but recall days spent at my grandparents’ home in Wisconsin so many years ago. There’s something about a farm that reeks of clean living, nature, animals and peace. Our current address was originally a farmstead in the late 1800s. Even though it’s in the center of our town, I think of all the memories that must’ve been made here. It is a reminder of those childhood days on Grandma and Grandpas’ farm.
The path to their house was lined with a brigade of tall sentries. Each pine had been meticulously planted and nurtured for years. It was now their mission to protect the meager house from the elements. Once you reached the house you were greeted by a rusty old hand pump which had served its purpose until it was at last replaced by indoor plumbing. There was an outhouse in the backyard – another reminder of times past. A stray cat might also curl its way around your feet, begging for attention.
The house itself was modest but held stories of a family and their journeys through tough times as well as good. The little modified cottage grew with every new addition to the clan. As they grew so did the house. A window seat was built into the wall overlooking the massive flower garden, the fields of golden hay and the ever-present line of diligent soldiers. I used it as a perfect refuge to escape and read a book or just enjoy the view.
My grandparents raised eight children there. My grandmother watched five of them and her husband pass away during her lifetime and finally succumbed herself – never giving up the house nor the memories that were made there. Watching her children come and go, must’ve been so hard for her, but then to lose her husband as well. Isn’t it amazing what we endure in a lifetime? We start from scratch, building a life, creating new lives, watching them grow and spread their wings. We see them become responsible adults as we become old. In a way, it’s like beginning all over again when you reach these final years. You require more help just maintaining as you did just a few years ago. You become more dependent on others. Your strong stride has been reduced to baby steps. Such is the circle of life.
When you are in the building process, making memories and treasuring them, it becomes difficult to let go of the things you hold dear. Like King Solomon, you wonder what it was all for. Your mind skips through those younger years. Your body grows weaker with age, but if you are glued to the Savior, Jesus, you have more than memories. You have a full future awaiting in heaven.
We have been experiencing an amazing spring. The snow has melted. The ground is thirsting for moisture, but we know that God will provide that in time. Yesterday, after church, we decided to take a drive. We do a lot of that lately. It seems to give us a new perspective for the coming week. Our spirits were lifted earlier as we heard God’s Word preached. We studied a portion of Ephesians in Bible study. I was ready for a nap by the time we got home, because a busy couple of days prior to Sunday.
We’re beginning the process of downsizing – AGAIN. Instead of a nap, my husband suggested a drive in the country, since it was such beautiful day. So, I surrendered and I’m glad I did. The drive was much more refreshing than a nap. We headed for our favorite wildlife refuge and were treated to some migrating Sandhill cranes – a whole flock of them had landed and were feeding in one of the marshy areas of the park. These magnificent, almost prehistoric looking birds are in their full color right now. A rusty suit of plumage, along with a top hat of red – made quite an impression on those female cranes. As they paraded past each of them, I’m sure there were ooohs and aaahs from each one. They sounded more like squawks though. There may have been little scorecards too, determining the best of the group. A group of cranes is called a “dance.” I imagine it was like Dancing With the Stars as they strutted their stuff. In addition to the cranes, we saw a few turkeys, a couple eagles, several pairs of swans, a pheasant, a deer and a partridge in a pear tree. Just kidding about that last one.
There is nothing like getting back into God’s creation to renew, refresh and regenerate. Thankfully our winter was short this year. Only a couple of severe weather alerts were issued. I have often alluded to the fact that Minnesota will undoubtedly become the new garden state with all this “climate change,” “global warming,” or whatever you may call it. Here we go again. The start of a new week – another chance – yesterday’s tomorrow. I pray that you all have a blessed week.
Isaiah 55:12 “For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”
Diving into the waters of downsizing is something we did almost eight years ago. Once more we’re faced with wading through years of accumulating, creating, saving, hoarding, whatever you want to call it. As we slowly took step by step to the upstairs of our old home, we were facing odds that we might not make it. Doing steps isn’t in our mindset these days, so we had to sit down to catch our breath, before we made any kind of a dent in ridding ourselves of stuff. While doing that, my eyes drifted around the living area up there.
I had not been upstairs in quite a while, so you can imagine the condition of a space which has been basically uninhabited for the last two years. Cobwebs were visible in the corners and on the ceilings, creating a net of glittering silk. Dust had collected on everything, since a major highway renovation had taken place during that time as well. In spite of all that, I was reminded why we bought this place in the first place. We had fallen in love with the simplicity of the old farmhouse dating back to the late 1800s. Many upgrades have been made, but the house itself maintained its original charm and melancholy.
Surveying the work ahead felt like a heavy weight landed on my shoulders. Then we started paging through stacks of art, art portfolios, sketch books, journals, memories galore. This area of our house had become an art studio over time. It’s also a museum of sorts, including most of the life of the artist himself. There was advertising art, nature art, landscapes, an album of the many wood sculptures created by this man. Among the art there is a library of art and textbooks. There are nature books, a number of Bibles, and books pertaining to the Bible. There are remembrances of trips taken to Alaska, Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, Oregon and California. There are hunting trophies upon the wall, along with bow and arrows and artifacts from Native American cultures.
As I sat there, thumbing through all the art, (some I had never seen before,) and looking at the tangible evidence of this man I married almost sixty years ago, I couldn’t hold back the tears. God has given us a time of grace during Paul’s untreatable Cancer. We feel blessed that we can make decisions together before there is no more time. As we enter this next step, however, it makes me feel like a whole lifetime is wrapped up in the things we’ve collected over time. I know it’s all just stuff and carries very little value for anyone other than us, but it’s really hard to let go of a part of your identity.
We’ll get through this, as we’ve overcome some much more difficult situations over the years. We have a God who has already planned our lives in advance. He is in control. He has never left us, and He never will. Please pray for us as we enter this phase of our life together.
Dear, Father, God, give us strength to face what lies ahead. Help us to release things that don’t matter. Help us to grow even closer together through this process and help us hold back tears and let emotions get in the way. Amen!
Every once in a while, something happens to reassure your confidence in the human race. Kindness is one of those things. I didn’t attend church this past Sunday, partly because of my inability to hear everything and partly because emotions have been building up over time and it seems the waterworks open up more readily. I watched church online. The message was about being afraid, as the disciples sat in a locked room after the death of Jesus. The unknown can do that to a person. One week ago, we were sitting in the sanctuary, praising God for His ultimate plan of salvation. This Sunday was filled with fear of the unknown. My daughter came over to visit after church and we exchanged some of the things going on in both of our lives. We laughed, we talked, and we shed a few tears.
Personally, Paul and I are in the process of a do-over, mostly due to age, illness and lack of stamina to fulfill the everyday tasks of being homeowners. As we look ahead, there are a million questions. Will we have to rely on others to care for us? Will our money run out before we do? Will we be able to continue our social activities as usual? When work has been the norm for your entire life, it’s scary to sit back and relax or smell the roses. Even when you think you have it all together, fear is not uncommon.
Yesterday, a friend invited me to lunch just to chat. We totally enjoy each other’s company. Hearing improves when I don’t have to sort through a number of voices. We laughed, talked, laughed some more, shed a tear or two and generally had a lovely time. At the end of the meal the waitress informed us that our bill had been paid by another customer. I’ve heard about this random act of kindness before, but never experienced it. It got me thinking.
Lives change drastically as we age. We hold onto things of the past. We try to maintain friendships but lack the ability to reach out to new ones. We become complacent and sedentary. Still, even though we’re both in our 80s, we still hang onto life. Our future is guaranteed. We know we have a place waiting in heaven. So. what is the solution for this feeling of depression and anxiety? The lessons learned in the last two days are these – Don’t hide behind closed doors. We have an amazing message to share with others. This gift from God is more precious than silver or gold. Paying it forward is a common term referring to being able to help someone experience an unconditional gift. Our greatest gift is Jesus. Tell others about Him. Pay it forward.
I used to be able to tell you if it was Monday or Friday. I could even spout out the date in a flash. When you get older, days often meld into each other, because you aren’t on a specific schedule. They like to tell us that our memory is failing or that we’re getting old, but the truth is we lose track of the daily routine – the nine to five thing – the rush to get to work. When you’re retired you lose track of a lot of things – not because your mind is addled, but because you’re no longer required to think about them. Still, we have to remember what day it is, so we can take out the trash for pickup – make all our doctor’s appointments – know when it’s Sunday so we can figure out the rest of the week.
When you have a regular job, you need a planner or a calendar, which is usually on your phone – so there should be no excuse for missing an appointment or getting to work on time. Monday is the hardest. You’ve just come off a weekend of activities with the family, hours consumed by some self-absorption, or just taking it easy. It takes a while to re-program our brains into work mode. Within two short days, we’ve convinced ourselves that we require more sleep. We feel we’re entitled because we worked hard all week. Weekends are supposed to be a time of regeneration, but there are things to do which we’re unable to do while working. Like cleaning the house, cutting the grass, getting the car washed, planning and preparing meals for the week, spending time with family, enjoying other’s company, doing the laundry, grocery shopping, going to sporting events, taking kids to their activities and the list goes on ad infinitum. We try to cram so much into the weekend, that Monday’s really start to look like a day of rest.
Organizing your time doesn’t help, because things come up – like needing medical attention, an unexpected visitor, an unplanned call for help. It’s no wonder that by the time we reach my age, time is really immaterial. We look at each day as a bonus. We thank God for giving us another one. We make the most of each minute we have left.
Enjoy your Monday, Tuesday and so on. You’re going to need to rest so you’ll be prepared for next weekend.
Mountainous clouds entwine in a sky of black, Filling with tears from the Lord of all. He sees and He knows our tribulation. The depth of our sorrow is in His hands. There is nothing we can do to take away our sadness. We cannot change the course of our lives, But He has turned His tears to cleansing waters Through the death of His beloved Son. Washed – forgiven for sin’s deadly pain, We can dance in His refreshing rain.
“Both old and young alike ought to seek wisdom: the former in order that, as age comes over him, he may be young in good things because of the grace of what has been, and the latter in order that, while he is young, he may at the same time be old, because he has no fear of the things which are to come.” Epicurus
I’ve been thinking about the whole concept of wisdom and aging lately. Some things that used to bother me a lot, as a young woman, no longer seem important. The fear of failure, the agony of defeat, all the stuff that we put so much importance into, is like King Solomon’s reference to chasing the wind.
I’ve learned a few things in my almost 82 years of growing up. I realize that worry doesn’t accomplish anything. It just gives you more wrinkles. God tells us to place our troubles on Him, but for women, it seems difficult to let go of our worries. I guess it’s a mother thing. I’ve learned that God has a plan laid out for our lives – in spite of our efforts to do our own thing. I’ve seen doors close in my lifetime, only to have more important and better doors open. I’ve witnessed the passion of a young marriage, grow into a more sedate lifestyle, yet one that is full and rich in countless ways. I’ve watched my children and grandchildren grow into responsible adults and am amazed at how God is working in their lives. I see history repeating itself – the same mistakes being made over and over again – a future that appears all too dark, yet a sparkle of light at the end of the tunnel. Being optimistic is so much a part of being wise. Knowing there is an end in sight gives us hope and we need a ton of that.
The importance of growing older is that our minds are filled with countless facts. We grow physically, mentally, spiritually. We make mistakes. We stumble. We fall. We pick ourselves up and do it again and again. Life can be a series of frustrations if we don’t learn from each of those road blocks.
For some of us it takes longer to figure that out. Maybe that’s why I’m still here. Wisdom will never be completely achieved until after death, when we walk with God on a personal basis – when our prayers turn into one-on-one conversations – when eyes become opened, and all the truth of life will become completely apparent. I can’t wait for that day.
My husband and I enjoy looking out the side window of our house at the wildlife that skitter here and there. Great feats of strength are on display as these little critters teeter across electrical wires with one foot ahead of the other – balancing like a prima donna with cheeks full of hidden treasures. Those cheeks can hold more than you think possible. This spring we have a whole new family of three siblings that simply love to put on a show. I’m thinking of creating little costumes for them. Scratch that idea. My sewing machine has retired along with me.
We have named one of them, “Nutsy.” This champion of the black walnut tree has outdone himself. He hastens to carry a dumbbell consisting of two walnuts on a stem. Carefully he proceeds to the high wire and takes his first step. With each move forward, he is coaxed to a moment of terror, yet he persists. Onward he goes to the highest point, crisscrossing wires and branches, hoping not to electrocute himself in the process.
There’s another one we named “Stubby,” because of his abnormally short tail. He may have been walking behind or underneath Nutsy when his final step on the wire sent him swirling to the ground. It’s also possible that Stubby almost lost his life under the tire of an oncoming car. Maybe one of the feral cats got to him. The fact that squirrels are so agile and acrobatic, they should have their own Olympic games and be awarded medals for their performances. We could hold up little score cards from our chairs inside, indicating how excellent we thought they were.
I wonder what goes through their little minds. Probably not much, or they wouldn’t dare to do such amazing deeds. The perils of squirreling would soon diminish the entire population, if they knew what was in store for them. Still, they persist. Pressing on towards the final goal – storing those nuts for future sustenance. And God places the memory of the location of that food deeply in their minds, so they never have to go hungry. Such trust. If only we had a faith like that.
Maybe I should get a life instead of looking out the window all the time.
As I look out my window this morning, a flurry of heavy, wet snow is dusting a layer of white upon the grass. Clouds fill the sky. Snowflakes can be beautiful, each with a pattern and design of their own. It will melt before the day is over. The tiny sign of new growth forces its way to greet the sun – longing for that welcome warmth which comes from God’s own hand.
Hard boiled eggs intended for an Easter breakfast, will be tossed into the garbage today. A lost hidden Easter egg will be discovered. All that expensive chocolate will go on sale for those of us who didn’t buy any, because of the exorbitant cost. Those marshmallow Peeps will be relegated to a piece of Tupperware until they become hard enough to break a tooth. Does anyone really like those things? All the beautiful church music, flowers and other adornments will be put away and forgotten for another year. Some have overindulged and dread having to get back in the routine. Cares which we left bundled up and hidden away on Friday, have come back to smack us alongside the head and remind us of their presence. It is time for a do over. The beginning of a new week can indicate the need for change – the start of a new path – a reparation of past wrongs – the start of a different lifestyle – especially after the experience of Easter has filled our hearts with hope and joy.
As with many of our religious holidays, we sit idly and wallow in the wonderful food, the traditions of the past and the rituals. The beginnings we experience in life are a chance for us to indulge in an inauguration of sorts – a threshold to optimism. The past few days have been filled with the Christian message of hope, life eternal and forgiveness of sins. We have received the greatest gift ever from the Creator of the universe. Our life in heaven is guaranteed, but our walk on this planet will not be a cake walk. When we serve Jesus, we can expect difficulty. By following Him, we may face persecution. We will suffer. We will cry and become anxious about things. The difference for the Christian is that we have hope – not in our accomplishments or good deeds, but in God’s unconditional love for us. As you begin this week, keep the truth of Easter alive. It won’t make your walk on earth any easier, but you are guaranteed an eternity in heaven.
A short time before the women arrived to tend to the burial needs of their slain Messiah, a small earthquake shook the earth. An angel appeared on top of the stone covering the opening to the grave. He was white as snow. The stone was removed from Jesus’ protected tomb. The soldiers who were appointed to guard the tomb were shaken to the core. Their bodies seared with an unearthly light. They fell frozen to the ground. After the tomb was opened, the guards ran to tell their superiors what had happened.
The women reached the opening and seeing the empty tomb they became afraid. Their first thought had to be that someone had come in the night and stolen the body. The expensive jars of spices and burial herbs fell to the ground, and they began to cry. The sun was rising in the east. Shards of gold filled the sky, and a myriad of color filled the clouds. Where was Jesus? As the women entered the tomb, they saw the burial garments strewn across the stone slab where Jesus had been placed. The cloth that covered His face was folded neatly and placed at the top. The women didn’t understand what had happened. They had been there when Jesus was crucified. They saw His stricken body pour out every last drop of His blood. They watched helplessly as He died. Now He was nowhere to be found.
We have the blessing of knowing what happened on that day. Jesus had been resurrected from death. He was alive as He said He would be. Even though they had spent three years with Jesus, they couldn’t possibly have grasped the truth of this event. None of this made sense. How would you have responded?
Across refreshing waters pure, the sign remains in place. The glorious cross of Jesus, Christ, transcends both time and space. Instrument of execution, stained with blood, sweat and tears, A symbol of the sinless lamb, promised throughout the years.
The sign of His suffering and pain, punishment He sustained. The spikes that invaded His flesh, the scars that would remain. Spiny thorns pierced His Holy head, the people mocked and jeered. Yet submissive the Lamb went on, His resolve never veered.
In words that He spoke from that cross, He tended to His flock, No care for His own suffering, His body now in shock. He lifted His powerful voice, invited one to hear, To join Him that day ain His realm, alive and without fear.
He prayer that God’s will would be done, He breathed His last and died. The people thought it was useless, they wondered, and they cried. Three days later He conquered death, rising again to life. He did what He said he would do, redeemed us from our strife.
The cross in itself is ugly, a symbol of our death, but the resurrection glory, assures us of new breath. Projecting our future story and how our Shepherd true. Designed this plan for everyone, no more would sin accrue.
His life for ours was given there, upon those blood-stained beams, so we could share in His kingdom, and live beyond our dreams. Peace everlasting and love will reign. Sorrow we will not feel. The cross of Christ is our refuge, through His life we are healed.
And when the cross is our vision, when fear assaults our soul. There is nothing more sufficient, than Jesus’ final goal. The empty tomb, the risen Lord, is all the proof we need. To know that we’re forgiven of all our sinful deeds.
Blood flows from a beaten, smitten corpse, hanging on an instrument of torture.
This One not taking life, but giving it through holy, precious blood.
That is righteousness, bought and paid for the ugliest and most sinister of us.
Complete payment for all.
The victory over death has been accomplished.
Refreshing,
Cleansing rain falls softly on an eager earth,
Thirsting for relief,
Longing for renewal and rebirth.
The tears of God bring respite for the dying soul,
He gave His only Son to fill a gaping hole,
The hole that widens every day,
When we forget to turn to Him and pray,
As branches dance and lightening fills the air,
I think of Him who takes away each care.
We see the need for God’s power to inspire us once again,
To cleanse our hearts and wash our dark souls in His refreshing rain.
When bruised and injured we do fall, before our Father’s throne And look upon the lamb once slain for all sins to atone, Our pain is nothing next to His, our wounds are all but naught. The blood He shed, His torturous death, were all with insult fraught, But still the Son of God went forth in dignity and strength, He took our place and bore the cross until His dying breath, Three days went by. He shunned the grave and rose to life again. He did this so I too could claim a life in heaven with Him. Sweet Jesus you have walked the road that I deserved to go. You did this oh so willingly and You knew just what to do So when I’m feeling battered and pulled in many ways, Remind me of the walk you took and please accept the praise.
CASSIUS – A ROMAN CENTURION – WITNESS TO THE CRUCIFIXION
He was a man around the same age as the one hanging on the center cross. This soldier was a leader of men. He’d come by his position through the ranks, after several years serving in the military. The requirements to become an officer were often difficult. The candidate had to be able to read so he could carry out written orders. He needed to be extremely fit and strong to wield the sword and carry the heavy shield. In addition his troops were well disciplined and ready. He was a man who followed orders and executed them to the letter.
That day he was in charge of a crucifixion. Three men were to be executed. The cross was the instrument of torture used for this horrible death. It was designed to support the body enough so that the flesh wouldn’t tear away from the nails, yet it was positioned in such a way that the victim would slowly suffocate because of lack of support and oxygen flow to the lungs. It was a slow and painful death.
Soldiers are used to seeing the ugly side of life. When in battle, they’re subjected to death, suffering, bloodshed and adrenaline rising to the limit, but this was different. These men had been accused of crimes against the government and had to be dealt with. Just another day for a soldier and officer of the state – nothing like the field of battle and yet a battle was being waged at that very moment – one for the souls of men.
These three victims were laid out on their crosses. Soldiers hoisted the beams to an upright position and each body let out a gasp of pain as the air was sucked from their lungs for a moment. They waited to die.
This one in the center had already gone through hours of torture. He had suffered the tearing of His flesh by the scourge – a beating that would have killed most. A crown of gnarled thorns was pushed into His head, causing drops of blood to drip into his bludgeoned, swollen eyes. He’d been on public display, humiliated and spat upon. He carried the weight of His own cross to His execution.
The soldiers sat below the cross and gambled for the seamless, homespun robe of purple which had been placed on the back of the supposed king of the Jews. They laughed and enjoyed the moment. Finally, the sky began to fill with darkness as the man uttered His final words. “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
Cassius was sure the man had breathed His last, but to be sure, he brandished his sword and sliced the side of the one they called Jesus. Every last drop of blood had bled out, leaving the “King of the Jews” dead. The earth began to shake as Jesus died that day. Rocks came tumbling down. Lightening pierced through the heavy sky. The heavy curtain leading to the Holy of Holies in the temple was torn in two. The centurion looked upon the face of the stricken soldier on the cross and knew that He was more than just a man as he declared, “Surely, this was the Son of God!”
As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension.
I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog.
I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ.
My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
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