Reunion Gold
My husband and I attended an “all school” reunion for his former high school this afternoon. This particular gathering honored the class of 1963, as they celebrated a half century since their high school commencement.
A Power Point presentation displayed a photo montage of their high school years, complete with selections of popular music from their teen years. What life events transpired from their graduation day till now? Careers and retirement, families and grandchildren, and many good-byes – to parents, perhaps spouses, and friends.
Fifty years have passed since they had walked those halls together, yet many said it felt as though their graduation was just yesterday, yet a lifetime of moments had accumulated for each person.
The brevity of this lifetime, the dash between one’s birth and death, and how quickly time flies by brought this passage of Scripture to mind:
Psalm 39:4-5
Show me, O LORD, my life’s end and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting is my life.
You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
The span of my years is as nothing before you.
Each man’s life is but a breath.
Only God knows the number of our days, or the remaining days of those we love. Our life on this earth is fleeting and brief so make your moments count. Love God, love people, and let your life be one that is golden, one that enriches those it has the privilege to touch.
Freezing in the Frozen Mitten!
Someone has turned off the heat in the Frozen Mitten! After two wonderful weeks of rare temperatures in the 90’s, we are back to a “cooler than normal” forecast. Aside from that unusual blast of warm air, it has been a chilly summer with night temps dipping into the 40’s and daytime highs struggling to touch 80.
Not much need to run the air conditioning with weather like this, but you may need to throw another blanket on the bed and close the window at night. At least utility bills will be lower.
If Michigan were ever to have a designated “State Garment” I think it should be the front-zippered fleece jacket. This is the garment you can wear all year long. In the winter it keeps you toasty when you step away from the wood burning stove and provides that important extra layer of heat-trapping warmth under your parka when you step outside. It keeps your face warm at night if you flip it over your head when burrowing under your quilts. In summer it is your go-to garment, great for chilly mornings and evenings, as well as your never-needs-ironing wrap for overly air-conditioned restaurants and stores. It is also thick enough to repel the ever-hungry state bird – the mosquito.
Pack away those tank tops, shorts and sundresses. Michigan’s two weeks of summer is over and it is time for jeans, sweatshirts and fleece. It is almost time to rev up the that snowmobile!
Racing the Stork!
Grandchild #2 was born four days after her OB’s predicted arrival. Since OB’s are generally pretty accurate about predicting birthdays, the whole family was on “Stork Watch” for about two weeks. Different family members took turns staying at our son’s home prior to the due date to give his exhausted wife a chance to rest from the demands of an active three year old. Lack of sleep, weeks of ineffective contractions and the fear of an unassisted home birth had her on tenterhooks.
There was no royal helicopter nor army of reporters camped outside of her door, just a nervous husband at work with cell phone in hand, and family members timing contractions, as we balanced the tyranny of the urgent with the impending birth.
My husband and I were 90 minutes away when the long-awaited phone call came. Second births are usually quicker than first deliveries and we were not sure we would be able to arrive in time. As it was, we arrived at the hospital with over three hours to spare.
Both grandmothers were allowed to join our son and daughter in the labor and delivery room and we encouraged, provided moral support, and visited as we waited. And, we both nearly missed the event!
Labor was not moving very quickly, and we were told that it could be a few more hours before the baby was born. When asked to step out for a procedure, we wandered down to the waiting room to update the rest of the family assembled there that it promised to be a long night. Unexpectedly, a nurse raced in and yelled, “Hurry! You need to be back there NOW!” We ran to the labor room and found it had been transformed into a delivery room, complete with a team of doctors. We barely had time to assume our positions before the delivery. A few quick pushes, and our grandchild was born!
I am astounded and speechless by the miracle of birth and am so grateful to be a part of this moment. Hello, little one! We are so happy for you to join our family and are thrilled to be a part of your welcoming committee! And I am delighted to have raced the stork and won!
A Taste of my Own Medicine…
I love to give advice. I think it is one of the things I do best. And, when I make suggestions, I am frequently told, “Oh, that is such a great idea! I am going to start doing that!”
It is far easier to give advice to others than to give advice to yourself.
At a recent family reunion, a relative shared with me that she wants to write books. She has several plot lines floating around in her head but hasn’t put anything down on paper because it seems like an overwhelming, time consuming task. I asked if she could spare thirty minutes a day. A half an hour isn’t much time, and she said that she could. My suggestion was to make an appointment to write for ONLY thirty minutes a day, every day. Set a timer and don’t worry about writing perfect paragraphs. Just write!
This exercise will develop the habit of writing and her books will eventually be recorded. And I heard that familiar response again, thanking me for the good idea and the determination to begin implementing my suggestion.
I was only allowed to bask in the moment for a short time. The Holy Spirit began to prod me about doing the very same thing.
I am frequently encouraged to write. And I try, but I lack the consistency of a routine. I start strongly, but quickly lose momentum and put writing back on the bottom of my priority list until someone or something nudges me to begin writing again.
When I think I have run out of interesting things to say, the blog fizzles .
But, thirty minutes isn’t too much time. I think I can write for thirty minutes. I think I can take a taste of my own medicine!
Construction Zone!
Thomas Jefferson began construction of his mansion “Monticello” at the age of 26 and did not consider it complete at the time of his death, at age 83. For most of his life, his home was a construction zone.
I can relate to that! Both my husband and I grew up in “unfinished houses.” While not palatial estates by any stretch of the imagination, it seem our parents were always tweaking our homes, adding upgrades to the floors, expanding rooms, or adding design elements here or there. The smell of fresh sawdust triggers a flood of happy childhood memories for both of us.
This tradition has continued throughout our marriage. Because of the experiences from our childhoods, we were not afraid of “fixer-uppers” and houses that needed some TLC. We have moved frequently through my husband’s career and have purchased a home at every stop along the journey. True to form, we have added rooms, replaced roofs, upgraded kitchens, and/or finished basements in every house.
Because we are creative, we tend to act on the suggestion of “wouldn’t it be nice to have x, y, or z at this house?” and then we proceed to tear out walls and transform the structure to our vision. It hasn’t happened overnight; the process has spanned years in some cases, and the fragrance of my marriage has been a combination of sawdust, drywall dust and paint!
No matter where you may be living, there is another home improvement project taking place on a much grander scale. If you are a Christian, you are the dwelling place of God’s Holy Spirit. When we accept Jesus Christ as the Lord of our life, we become alive to spiritual things and the Holy Spirit moves in. He guides us and helps us in our inner remodeling project, as God slowly transforms us from our selfish stance of, “Life is all about ME” to the very image of His Son, Jesus Christ, bearing a heart of love for God and others.
This is definitely an “upgrade” but, much like Thomas Jefferson’s construction project, it is a process which takes time. God has a magnificent vision for our life, but it is not fully realized nor completed until we reach heaven. He consistently continues to tweak and improve us through circumstances, people, and Bible study, giving us opportunity to become more and more like Jesus in our reactions, thoughts, and words.
Dear Christian, if you find yourself feeling as if your walls have been broken down, that you are surrounded by the debris of shattered dreams, and find yourself knee deep in the crumbled plaster of dashed expectations, take heart. Your reconstruction is in process! Things must first be torn down in order to be rebuilt. It is a process and it takes time.
You may be frustrated by the construction mess and wonder when the 2×4’s and sawhorses will cease to be a trip hazard in your living room. Why do the same old sins seem to trip you up, time after time? The process does not happen overnight, but the day is coming when you will have victory.
When the “fresh paint” smell of Jesus begins to permeate your life, you will carry that fragrance where ever you go. The people you meet will notice it, catching a whiff of something different, like an exotic perfume. Those who have known you will begin to notice the changes, the new beauty and grand design taking place in your life and will want to know what has happened. Your “house” will be fresh and new and others will notice and want to know how your life has changed. And, you will be able to share about your personal remodel by the Master Carpenter and invite them to join the construction zone.
Condo-Shopping Speed-Dating Style
Speed dating provides an opportunity for busy singles to spend a few minutes chatting with other singles in a controlled environment and quickly decide if they want to get to know each other better through subsequent dates. It is fast and furious and often mocked on sit-coms and commercials. Really, how well can you get to know a stranger in five minutes?
This week’s condo shopping experience felt very much like speed dating. We drove to Virginia on Monday, interviewed real estate agents later in the week and selected one to work with. Our agent sent us links to 15 homes in our price range, which we rated in descending priority. Some were ruled out because of square footage, others ruled out because of price, and most second floor units were discarded. That narrowed the field down to eight homes that we wanted to visit. We set up our house hunting on Saturday.
In four furious hours of shopping we toured these properties, selected a home and placed an offer to purchase; it was almost like speed dating.
This will be a second home for us, similar to the northern cabins that many Michigan families own. It will be occupied part-time and doesn’t have to be fancy or luxurious, which is a very good thing considering our lower price range! We discovered that most of the homes in our price range are foreclosures, bank owned, repossessed, or abandoned. Only a couple properties we wanted to view were for sale through a private owner.
The bank-owned units were scary. The utilities are disconnected, most appliances missing, and are sold “as is,” meaning that the bank will not make any repairs that the buyer discovers during personal or home inspections. The buyer pays to have utilities connected before the inspection, and purchases these properties at their own risk. Most of the bank-owned units we toured were distinguished by tattered window treatments, broken door locks, missing appliances and light fixtures, stained carpeting, and black mold.
And, bank-owned properties are notoriously slow to close, taking months to come to an agreement, as opposed to the 30 to 45 days usually needed for a sale to close by dealing with a home-owner. Possession is negotiated with the seller, and can be at closing or after an agreed upon time to give the seller time to remove their things. Bank-owned properties are empty and possession is immediate a closing.
We found only one home in our price range that we liked and placed an offer. It is well maintained, but the cabinetry and fixtures are dated. The carpeting is neutral, but worn, and the window treatments are not to my taste. This is minor when compared to the conditions we encountered in the bank-owned properties. We like the neighborhood and the lay-out of this unit; cosmetic things can be reasonably corrected.
The seller countered our offer, and we accepted their new price. Now, we start the parade of appraisers, inspectors, and financial juggling to pull it all together.
Once we close and have possession, we will start a frantic week of repainting and re-flooring before moving our furnishings from our apartment in Tennessee to this new dwelling. The target date of the move is mid March. I don’t think the “speed” part of this speed-dating process will slow down any time soon!
The Gypsy Life!
Life is fluid. Just when you think you have it figured out, it shifts and changes direction. Blessed are the flexible; they will bend but not be broken!
After nearly a year of life in Tennessee, we are moving again. We became Snowbirds and spent last winter in Florida, then became “Half-backers” when we moved half-way back to Michigan and tried life in Tennessee. Despite loving my position as Connections Pastor in Sweetwater, my body did not do well with Tennessee weather. I battled sinus infections all summer and lived on antibiotics and steroids. Once cold weather moved in, my asthma kicked up and I had to go back on the drugs! Enough is enough! You can’t live where you are sick all the time when there are other options.
Our options are many. My husband has retired now, so we are not locked into a location based on a job. We can go anywhere! We revisited our original plan of moving to Florida, and brainstormed over doing something wildly different for a season. We have chosen the wild way!
Our son’s family is in Michigan, and we have a house there. We will use it as a summer retreat and a place for the family to gather for the holidays. This way we can still be involved in our grandchildren’s lives and the lives of our parents and siblings who live in the Frozen Mitten.
Our daughter lives in Virginia so we will buy a condo there. Lots of people in Michigan have a small cottage up in the north woods for vacation get-aways. Our “small cottage” will be near our daughter and we will spend spring and fall in Virginia. And, we have the option to take the RV to Florida for the coldest 6 weeks of the winter and camp! For this season of life, we will be gypsies, traveling cross country, following the spring. We realize that this is for a season; someday we will be too old and feeble to chase the sun and will need to make a decision on a residence for our final years, but not yet!
The down-side of this plan is the inability to serve full time on a church staff, but we are trusting God to faithfully open up doors of ministry where ever we may be. It is the dawning of a new chapter and a new adventure. Life with the Lord is never boring!
Backseat Drivers
Summer is the time for road trips. The kids are out of school, the weather is warm, and undiscovered adventure beckons. And despite skyrocketing gasoline prices, driving is still cheaper than packing everyone into an airplane! Plus there are those priceless hours of family togetherness in the car.
Too often those long hours in the car are accompanied with the sound track of: “ I’m hungry! “ “ I’m thirsty! “ “ Are we there yet?” “I’m bored!” “He’s in my space!” “I have to go potty!” If we have ever traveled with children or have had a sibling, we can relate. Voices from the backseat are distracting and demanding. They can steal our peace and rob us of the enjoyment of the journey. Keeping one eye on the road, the driver often focuses on the turmoil in the backseat, snarling, “Don’t make me stop this car!” “Settle down! Behave!”
Distracted driving is dangerous. The driver jeopardizes his safety, emotionally hooks into the situation in the backseat, and loses his peace of mind. The kids are controlling the adult who is driving, who directs their primary attention on the drama being played out in the backseat. The trip is conducted with the primary focus being on the rear view mirror.
Driving while focusing in the rearview mirror is dangerous in the physical realm (because you could drive off a cliff !) and in the spiritual realm. Don’t drive down the road of life focused on the rear view mirror.
The offspring of Regret are Shoulda, Woulda. and Coulda. All too often we find them firmly planted in the backseat of life. If we listen to them, allow them to steal our joy for the journey, and focus on them, we can plunge ourselves into despair. They will control us if we let them.
Yes, we check the rearview mirror from time to time, to glance at what is behind us, but our focus needs to be on the road ahead. Tune out the demanding voices of the Regret Triple Crown and look to the horizon ahead of you. God has a plan for you; He has mapped out your destination.
Keep your eyes on the road that God has planned for you and don’t allow Regret to be a backseat driver.
Jeremiah 29:11: For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.
A nostalgic good bye…
In a few days I will return to my house in Michigan and prepare to list it for sale. It is a bittersweet feeling. This house has been my address for over 13 years, which is the second longest span of time I have ever lived in one place. There are lots of memories there.
We intentionally sought a place that needed lots of TLC when we bought it. Our children were quickly approaching their own launch into adulthood, and the life skills of remodeling are best taught with hands-on instruction. The house had “good bones” despite the many cosmetic issues and neglect. We replaced most of the floors, all of the doors, and re-did the kitchen. The “virgin” basement was transformed into a finished living area, complete with second kitchen and bathroom. We learned how to cook on a woodstove during power failures, raised chickens and gardened, dug a pond and built a barn.
The “Great Room” has hosted numerous holiday gatherings of friends and family, weekly Bible studies, and other celebrations. This house was our Granddaughter’s home for her first 5 months of life, and was a place of shelter for her parents when between jobs. Favorite memories are of campfires down by the pond, and sitting on the porch swing watching the fireflies dance in the fields.
I love the winding tree-lined lane that leads to the house. I love the wind-swept fields and watching the blue herons fish in the pond, the geese that return every spring to raise their babies and the small herd of white-tails that we try to outsmart from our garden. And it is hard to let it go. It is a little bit like a death.
As much as I love the house, I cannot live there anymore. My health prevents me from attempting to endure any more cold Michigan winters. Despite my husband’s retirement, my new career prevents me from wintering in a warmer state and spending my summers up north. And that is okay because I really love what I am doing. It is all good, but I still feel sad at saying good-bye to the house in Michigan. Or rather, I think I am saddened at the finality of that chapter of my life coming to a close.
God is always faithful and has a wonderful plan for my future. I can trust Him to lead and direct me into His very best. He is in the process of writing another exciting chapter of my adventure through life with Him.
Turn the page. A new chapter begins.
cherylpickford 