It's good to be a grownup

It’s good to be a grownup. Ok. I’ll agree, some days it would be just fine to be in a blanket tent coloring, as the Facebook post says. But, for the most part, being a grownup is a very good thing.

Having spent a lot of time with grands lately, I have seen up close and personal how a preschooler and a second grader deal with being kids. Usually it’s all good, but if they are hungry or tired or a friend said something hurtful, well, then it’s a whole different story.

But as an adult, for the most part, I know what I need and I know how to handle most situations that I encounter. My young grand may be having a melt down because he needs to eat. His blood sugar has dropped and he’s cranky. And often when that happens in young children, they don’t really know why they are feeling so crumby. As an adult, I know that feeling, and I know that I need to eat – carbs for a quick fix and protein for longer-lasting satisfaction.

I also know by the way I am feeling when my heart and soul need a boost – need to be fed. It has not always been that way. But when I learned to take the time to look into my heart, I began to recognize what my needs are. Maybe it is the need for some solitude and silence to quiet my spirit and help me listen to God’s voice. Maybe I need to go for a walk, enjoy the sunshine and the masterpiece of nature. Perhaps I need a nap, or to relax with a good book. If I think about the options, rather than impulsively acting, I usually know what I really need at the time. That’s a gift that has come from years of looking into my heart and learning to grow my faith and my relationship with God.

Sometimes, because I am a very social person, the need is to be with a friend. Not so my friend will solve my problem, but because a friend will listen. Usually I have the solution in my own heart already, but I need to talk about it to find it deep in my heart. A good friend who listens to me also offers perspective and thoughtful comments without trying to fix anything for me or in me. Mostly, I don’t want to be fixed, I want to be heard. And that is a pretty universal human need. Having someone listen to me is a huge gift.

Also, when I get together with a good friend, there is always laughter, and we know that laughing is good for us. Medical research even agrees with that.

My need may be to do something for someone else – serve in some way or listen to someone’s story. I have a friend who volunteers weekly for a local hospice. I could not do that, but I’m so glad she and others do, as I have experienced the comfort hospice volunteers provide. She says she gets more than she gives. Many volunteers say that. I volunteer as a mentor mom for a local Mothers of Preschoolers group, and I always feel that they give me more that I give to them – and the bonus is I often get to hold young babies.

For me being a grownup is a good thing. But it would not be so good if I could not assess what I really need physically, emotionally and spiritually. 

If you have difficulty determining what you need, I encourage you to look within – take some time for solitude and silence. Listen to your own heart and ask God to show you what you need. And then act on it – if you need to sleep more, do that. (I know, young moms, that may not be an option – been there, done that, but this too shall pass.) Maybe you need to laugh more, or eat more healthfully. If you listen to your heart, God will speak. The key is to listen.

And have fun being a grownup.

The Beauty of Seasons

Lake Lily
in Rocky Mountain National Park

I just returned from a week spent in Estes Park, Colorado. Such beautiful scenery. Towering mountains, rushing mountain streams, clear lakes, interesting wildlife, clear blue skies, crisp mountain air, plus the opportunity to just be – relaxing, resting and enjoying time with family.

It is true that the Colorado Rocky Mountains are spectacular and breathtaking. But as we returned to Iowa via Interstate 80 and then a state highway meandering through the countryside, I was reminded once again of the beauty that is Iowa.

My travels have not by any means included the whole Earth, but I have been to many states as well as several countries, and no place I have visited, here or abroad, compares to Iowa when it comes to different shades of green. From early spring to the beginning of winter, when Iowa is whitened by snow, Iowa boasts more green than anywhere I have seen. (And yes, I have seen Ireland – the Emerald Isle.)

Green is the color of life – growing, vibrant and flourishing. And Iowa’s countryside in late summer fairly screams “life” with its terraced corn fields rustling in the breeze awaiting harvest, fields of soybeans not yet yellowed, wildflowers with their colorful crowns dancing in ditches, and trees of different sizes and shapes all showing off their green, which soon will be changing to the gorgeous yellows, reds and browns that fall will bring.

The trip home from Colorado reminded me that summer is nearly over – technically it is little more than a week until fall officially begins. Each season brings its own beauty, just as the seasons of our life each have a special beauty of their own.

For some people, aging is something they actually regret, even though we all know that slowing the clock is not really possible. But, for me, aging is just part of my journey. And I want to enjoy each season for the beauty that it brings. I love being a grandma, spending time with my grands. I also enjoy sharing my experience and faith with younger women – opportunities I could not have as a younger woman.

I also love having time to spend with others in teaching, mentoring and just enjoying. Time is a gift we receive in retirement – time to do things we could not do when we were employed. But don't rush through your life to reach retirement -- enjoy the season you are in right now. Each one for its own special beauty and opportunities.

Scripture tells us “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven …” (Ecclesiastes 3:1), and it also says, “He hath made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men, yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Whatever season of life you are in, you can enjoy who you are and where God has placed you. I am certainly not saying that life is always easy. It is not. I have had my share of hurts in this life, but I choose to believe that in this season of my life, I am here for a purpose and my job is to believe that God has made everything beautiful in its time. So even in the rough spots, I make the choice to embrace where and who I am in this season, trusting that God is making something beautiful from whatever my circumstances.

Do I Trust You, Lord?

Unless our parents die while they are young, we all face caring for aging parents. For me, taking care of my mom has been part of my life since I was a teen. Not always physically, but emotionally. She is divorced and has lived alone for many years. And I have often been more than her daughter -- I have been her friend, confidant and emotional support.

Up until a couple of years ago, Mom, who just turned 94, still drove, went to House of Mercy, a rehab center for young women, and rocked babies in their nursery every weekday, and she did all her own shopping and housekeeping.

In the spring of 2013, she moved to a local retirement complex to assisted living. But, even then, for many months the only assistance she needed was three meals a day. Then in December 2014, she suffered several compression fractures of vertebrae, which are very painful. These were a result of osteoporosis. (Take care of your bones, girl friends!) Since then, it’s been a struggle. And she recently had a recurrence of compression fractures.

She is now in the nursing care area of her facility. We are hoping this is rehab, and she will eventually be able to go back to her assisted living apartment. But at 94, you never know.

Taking care of an ailing and aging parent, even when he or she is in a retirement facility, can become a full-time commitment. You become the conduit for their socialization outside of the facility, as well as their personal shopper, bookkeeper, and their transportation to doctors’ appointments and more.

Her need for me makes me hesitant to travel. It seems that when I leave town, something happens. She breaks her partial plate, or worse, she breaks vertebrae. So I am torn. I am retired, and I’ve worked hard all my life. I like to travel, both in the country and abroad, and the fact is, I’m not getting any younger either. I do not know how many more years I will want to or be able to travel. I also love to do things with my grandchildren and visit my adult children and their families in Oklahoma and New Jersey.

But my Mom needs me.

In many ways, this anxiety is not much different than the anxiety I sometimes had over leaving my children when they were very young. It’s always the “what ifs” that cause my anxiety.

What it comes down to is trust. Even if I stay in town all the time, my Mom will someday die. It’s a fact we don’t like, but it’s no secret that none of us gets out of here alive. And staying home won’t change that.

Someone has counted the number of times the words “do not fear” are in the Bible. They say the count is 365. That means one for every day of the year. Do I trust God, working through the care staff where she is, to take care of my Mom? Can I relinquish my fears? I cannot be with her 24/7, even if I never leave town. At this point, I am not capable of giving her the medical care she needs to heal and recover, so there is already a certain amount of trust needed. What if something happens and I am not here?

Choosing trust and giving up fear is truly a choice. I choose to trust you, God. I make that choice daily. And I thank you for your peace.

This is my prayer, from “Fragments of your Ancient Name” by Joyce Rupp:

Calm Sea of Peace

On occasion, I am a ship in stormy waters,

Tossed about by troubling thoughts,

Rocked harshly with emotional waves.

I am a ship searching for a calmer voyage

On the smooth surface of eventual surrender.

Protect me on the rough and roiling breakers

Of difficulties that agitate and fling me around.

Calm the patterns of distressful undulation

Tossing me to and fro in life’s unwanted events.

Sail my ship on the calm sea of your peace.

Making a Change

Change. It has all kinds of meanings. Pocket change. Leaves change color. We change clothes, shoes, jobs, houses. Styles change. Hair-dos change. Seasons change. The weather certainly changes. A local health food store uses the tagline, “Change your diet, change you life.” Change is everywhere.

Change that is not money calls for us to adapt to something new. But what motivates us to change our lives?

For some people it is circumstances. We adapt to the situation or environment we find ourselves in, and so we change to make ourselves fit. And often circumstantial changes are not welcome, but necessary. This might be a job loss or a health change. Older adults can testify to the fact that as their bodies change with age, their activities may have to change. And though change is not always welcome, it may be necessary for safety or well-being. It could also be the loss of a loved one, which requires a change in every-day life or perhaps a change in residence.

A furniture salesman recently told me that he’d been at his job for 14 years, but before that he was a manager of an information technology department. My response was, “That’s quite a switch.” He said his department was out-sourced so he was forced to look for another job. “I wanted a job where I interacted with people more,” he said. But IT to sales is a big adjustment – especially in salary. IT was a salaried job, while sales is commission-based. But the man is happy he made the career change.

Some people would not risk making a career change, even if they don’t particularly like their current jobs. What if they make the change, and then find that they don’t really like it, after all? Or what about the money thing? Making a career change might mean a negative change in salary, or even a lack of salary for the time it takes to be retrained or educated for a new career.

My mother was recently hospitalized, and one of her nurses, Charlie, was a middle-aged gentleman who is a terrific nurse. He is strong, smart, articulate, kind and totally devoted to the care of his patients. Because the trend for males in nursing is fairly recent, I asked him how long he’d been a nurse. He answered, “About three years.”

Before he went to nursing school, he explained, he was a land excavator – he ran heavy equipment. “I helped build homes and communities all over this area,” he said. I was intrigued, so I asked, “What motivated you to become a nurse?” I was thinking it would be something to do with the slow down of the economy and in new building that occurred a few years ago. But that was not his reason.

He told me that he has been a volunteer firefighter for West Des Moines, and he had helped pull people from car crashes and other tragedies. As all firefighters are, he was trained to do CPR, but he explained that it is not really common for a firefighter to need to use that skill. However, in the first few weeks as a volunteer, he administered CPR five or six times to accident victims who may have died without the procedure.

Charlie related that others around him told him he needed to do something in the medical field, as he was “so good at it.” He said there were other events, too, that led him to know that he needed to quit his job and go to nursing school. He said, “God just kept telling me in not always subtle ways that I needed to make a change.” So he enrolled at Des Moines Area Community College in nursing. He said his income dropped by more than half when he was in school.

That’s quite a switch – excavation to nursing and a good salary to nearly poverty-level income. Charlie said he didn’t hate what he did before, but he didn’t love it either. Now he loves his job. And it shows in the way he treats his patients.

What if Charlie had not listened to the voice of God? What if his experiences doing CPR had been just that -- experiences, rather than life-changing motivation for him to make a change? Obviously, someone would have still cared for my mother and other patients on the medical-surgical floor where Charlie works. And no doubt the care would still have been satisfactory and healing. But I believe that God motivated Charlie to go to school to become a nurse because that is his calling in life – his reason. His mission.

So what is my calling? What’s yours? Do we need to make big changes to accomplish whatever it is that God wants us to do? Big change requires us to listen carefully to the voice of God, which may come to us through friends, co-workers or family, or it may come as a dream that you want to accomplish.

I am not suggesting that anyone is in the wrong job, but perhaps there are folks who would like to make a change in their lives. That change is not necessarily a job or career. It might be changing friendships, entertainment, reading material or how you spend your leisure times.

The point is, listen to your life. Listen to God. Pay attention to circumstances and events. Listen to what people say to you, what they notice about you. And then explore the options you have. Ask God for guidance. He will show you His path for you, and sometimes it means you have to make a change. Are you willing?

Hello and Goodbye

Hello and Goodbye. In our lifetimes we say those words millions of times. Mostly our hello and goodbye is very casually said, such as when we answer the phone with “hello.” For many years I had no idea who was calling when I answered the phone, but my greeting was always “hello.” Now with caller ID, it’s easy to tell who is calling, and my response is sometimes different.

Goodbyes are a little different. Sometimes they are very casual because we have plans to see the other person again soon. But sometimes the best-laid plans don’t happen the way we thought they would.

Recently a friend I had known for nearly 30 years died suddenly. At one time we were very close friends, but in the last five years or so, our paths have gone different ways, so we rarely saw each other. I cannot remember the last time I said “goodbye” to her. I am sure that whenever it was, I did not think it would be a final goodbye. Fortunately, her family was able to see her and tell her goodbye before she died, though she was not conscious. We do not know how much people hear and understand in the unconscious state, but I am sure she heard and felt their loving goodbyes.

Other goodbyes are not as emotional. My daughter and her family live in Oklahoma City, an eight-hour road trip from my home. They were just here for a long weekend, and we said goodbye when they departed. After an action-packed weekend with cousins, an aunt and uncle, great-grandma and grandma Polly, one cousin taking a trip to the emergency room for stitches and other general chaos, I am sure they were ready to be in their own space and sleep in their own beds. And I have to admit, I welcomed the silence in my home again, as I’m no longer used to the bedlam of young children 24-7. However, saying goodbye was tough for me, but there were no tears. I don’t know when I will see them again, but I believe I will. Perhaps for Thanksgiving?

So why are goodbyes difficult sometimes, even when it does not involve a death? For me, it’s because goodbye means the ending of something that was fun and wonderful. Life has ups and downs. I tend to savor the highs – the joys of life – and a goodbye usually signals the end of an experience or conversation that brought joy. And being human, sometimes my wonderful times are followed by a bit of a letdown. Like hello and goodbye, it’s all part of the ebb and flow of life.

When Jesus was here on earth, He was every bit a human with the same emotions we have. And he had to say goodbyes. When he spoke from the cross to his mother, Mary, and then to his beloved disciple, John, he was in a sense saying goodbye. He did not say that word, but it was a goodbye. He knew he would be back among the living in three days. They did not.

When Jesus was almost ready to return to heaven, in trying to prepare his close friends, his disciples, for another very real goodbye, he said “I go to prepare a place for you …” (John 14:28) He was going to heaven, but they would miss his earthly presence.

I believe, too, that I will again see my husband who died four years ago, along with other family and friends who are in heaven. But in the meantime, they are gone and I’m still here.

A butterfly stops to savor the nectar in a
summer flower. On your journey,
don't forget to stop to smell the flowers.

Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation (www.Soaringspirits.org (www.Soaringspirits.org) posted this on Face Book recently: “I think the hardest part of losing someone isn’t having to say goodbye, but rather learning to live without them. Always trying to fill the void, the emptiness that’s left inside your heart when they go.”

I will not use the cliché that Jesus will fill that void. Yes, I believe he can and will, because he promised to never leave or forsake us (Joshua 1:5). But it is a journey. Not a process. A process follows predictable steps and the end result should always be the same. A journey, on the other hand, can be a meandering up hill and down, stopping to rest, refresh or reflect, or even to weep, and the end result is yet to be seen. A journey also takes an unpredictable amount of time.

On the other side of the coin, when there is a goodbye, there is often a hello following it. A hello to a new person or experience. A hello to finding our path after huge loss. A hello to a new way of life we develop while filling that void in our hearts. The new hello is often just doing the next thing God puts before you – opportunities for learning, spiritual growth, new relationships, new interests to pursue.

For me, as I say goodbye, I want to welcome the hello that follows. That is part of my journey. And there is no doubt there are good things to come. God promises us good, so I try to say “hello” to all the next things.

Sometimes there is pain, but God promises, “joy in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5) However, I

don’t take that “morning” literally – it might take many mornings for the joy to return after a difficult goodbye. But joy will return, in God’s good time. 

And while you wait, remember to find joy in small things and be grateful. I have found that living with a grateful heart is a healing tonic to my soul.