Take It Good

Today I've thought so much about my sweet mama who died eight years ago on this date (January 9). It's hard to believe she's been gone that long. Sometimes, when the grief is deep and raw, as it has been today, it seems that she died days ago. Sometimes it seems that she's been gone much longer than 8 years.

As brokenhearted as I was to have to let Mama go, I was also thankful that God had called her home, thereby releasing her from the ravages of Alzheimer's. As much as I loved her, I could not wish her to come back--under the circumstances. Although her last years were not easy, Mama remained sweet and gentle, never argumentative or combative or complaining or demanding or asking, "Why me?"

As I remember Mama's last years, I realize that "She took it good," as my mother-in-law used to say. I am so thankful she did. I pray that when I am in difficult circumstances, I will remain sweet and "take it good," like Mama did.

With or Without Wrinkles!

I was dumbfounded when I read about a woman who—for 40 years—refused to laugh—or even smile! I was even more flabbergasted when I read why. (Brace yourself, Dear Reader.) She wanted to avoid getting wrinkles around her eyes and lips!

Oh, I thought, the lengths some people go to in order to hide the effects of aging! But aging is inevitable. Take a look at the rich and famous—who have access to all sorts of anti-aging potions and procedures. Even so, “old age” impacts them, too. Their skin wrinkles, their voices quaver, their spines curve, their muscles atrophy….as ours do.

We certainly should take proper care of our bodies and try to look our best. But if we hyperfocus on the externals, it’s all too easy to lose sight of the things that are eternal and, therefore, fail to pay much, if any, attention to them.

Dear Reader, may you and I make choices based on God’s Word, which repeatedly reminds us that what’s going on on the inside of us is far more important than what’s going on on the outside. 

For example: 1 Peter 3:2, NLT, says, “Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty that depends on fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should be known for the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.”

A person with such a spirit is beautiful--with or without wrinkles--and a joy to be around! 

Letting Go

While photographing in my yard, I noticed this daffodil that had been damaged by the wind and the rain that had moved through the neighborhood a day or so prior. Oh, it was so beautiful, I thought, but look at it now!

As I photographed it, I remembered this quote I'd written in my journal: "There comes a time when the beautiful flower must go. We must let it!"

I have no idea who said that, but it's true, isn't it? True not only in regard to beautiful flowers but also true of people, lifestyles, and careers--and sometimes abilites, health, mobility, opportunities, and many other blessings we have enjoyed for years. Naturally, we shrink from letting go, but when we have to, we have to. When that time comes, it's far better to let go gracefully than to do so while "kick'n' and scream'n'," isn't it? 

As I reflected on the letting go process, I recalled what the psalmist said to God, and my heart echoed his words. 

In You, O LORD, I put my trust;

Let me never be put to shame....

Be my strong refuge

To which I may resort continually;

For You are my rock and my fortress....

You are my hope, O LORD GOD;

You are my trust from my youth.

By You I have been upheld from birth;

You are He who took me out of my mother's womb.

My praise shall be continually of You....

You are my strong refuge.

Let my mouth be filled with Your praise

And with Your glory all the day.

Do not cast me off in the time of old age;

Do not forsake me when my strength fails....

I will go in the strength of the LORD GOD;

I will make mention of Your righteousness, of Yours only....

Now also when I am old and grayheaded,

O God, do not forsake me.... (Psalm 71:1-18, NKJV).

Perhaps, Dear One, you would also like to use these words as a prayer to God and as an affirmation of your continuing faith in Him?

Pockets of Peace

NOTE: The story below is a fiction one I wrote in 2006. I hope you enjoy it and that you will let me know what you think of it.

A smile begins to form as I sit at the kitchen table and watch the softly-falling snow as it slowly hides the brown earth underneath a blanket of white. A soothing calm settles over me as I gaze at the beauty outside my window.

I linger over my morning coffee, reluctant to focus on the bitter realities of the day. My health is failing fast, as fast as early morning frost disappears under the rays of a rising sun. My daughter Dianne and her family no longer live nearby. Though they had to move across the country to find work, I miss them terribly. And I need them more than ever, now that the man who has been the love of my life for 55 years is slipping away from me, too. Alzheimer’s, the doctor says. Some days, he knows who I am. Other days, he looks at me as if I’m someone he’s supposed to know but doesn’t.

Here lately, my spirit feels as cold as my body did during the harsh winters my parents and I lived in a ramshackle farmhouse heated by a drafty fireplace in the living room and a wood-burning stove in the kitchen.

But, I say to myself as I sip the last of my coffee, we survived those bone-chilling days. By the grace of God, I’ll get through these difficult days, too. I may not be “at ease” every day, but I know I’ll have the strength and resources I need to get through this tough time.

I become even more convinced of that as I recall what happened yesterday. The doorbell rang around 8 a.m. When I peeped through the mini-blinds on the kitchen door, I saw Nancy, one of Dianne’s dearest friends. “My goodness!” I gasped, holding the door wide open. “What on earth do you have?”

“Just a little bit of Christmas cheer,” she said, juggling her festive load as she stepped inside.

Within minutes, she’d placed a miniature Christmas tree on the breakfast table and had unwrapped plates of food that looked more delicious than any I’d seen in magazines.

“Now, for the gifts,” she said cheerily, handing two packages to me. “Let’s get Tom so he can enjoy this, too.”

       

We found him sitting in his recliner facing the picture window, gazing out at the falling snow, his eyes as blank as an unpainted canvas.

       

“Honey,” I said, “come and see what Nancy brought us.”

       

He followed me, his steps (and mine) unsteady and slow. As we seated ourselves at the table, Nancy warmed our food in the microwave oven. “I thought you two would be up and around,” she said. “So, I rushed over to start Christmas day off just right for you.”

       

Other friends dropped by later, bringing gifts and offers of help for Tom and me. One neighbor promised to cut our grass next summer. Another said, “I’ll take you to the doctor whenever you need to go.” The young mother who lives four doors down said, “I’ll deliver your groceries.”

       

So, as I sit here today, I’m greatly comforted by their expressions of love and offers of help. I realize such kindnesses can’t remove my difficulties. But, like the snowflakes drifting down one by one and covering the bleakness of the winter landscape, accumulated kindnesses will mask my hardships—for brief periods, providing me with welcomed pockets of peace like this one.

Fading Fast

The lovely flowers a friend sent to me almost two weeks ago are fading fast, though I have cared properly for them. Come to think of it, I'm fading fast, too. I don't realize it so much until I look at photographs of myself that were taken years ago. And then I think, "O my goodness! I looked young then, but now I look so OLD."

As I see how the aging process is taking such a toll despite all my efforts to maintain health (and youthfulness!), I repeat this request David made: "LORD, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered--how fleeting life is" (Psalm 39:4, New Living Translation).

After also recalling a quote I've heard many times through the years, I looked for it on the Internet and found out that it's part of a poem written by C. T. Studd:

Only one life, 'twill soon be past,

Only what's done for Christ will last.

Dear Reader, may you and I daily seek to do His will rather than our own. May we love others, as He has loved us. If so, the rest of our lives (however much time we have left) can be the best of our lives!

Full of Life

Shortly before my sixty-something birthday, I came across an article about a 101-year-old woman who celebrated that birthday by repelling down a 328-foot tower, despite the wind and the rain, breaking her own record as the world’s oldest abseil-er. She’s looking forward to a similar celebration next year.

Her story reminded me of a friend of mine who celebrated her 88^th birthday by taking a motorcycle ride, courtesy of a friend who drove her around town. For her 89^th birthday, she took a hot air balloon ride.

I’m not planning to do anything quite as daring as they did, but I’m glad I had an opportunity to take an untethered hot air balloon ride several years ago. I never dreamed I’d get to do it—or that I’d have the courage to do it. But I did! 

I'm the one waving!

What I do hope to do on my birthday (and in all the days ahead) is to experience the reality of the promise found in Psalm 92:14-15, NASB:

[The righteous] will still yield fruit in old age;

They shall be full of sap and very green,

To declare that the LORD is upright.

Forget Me Not

When a 95-year-old woman and I were talking one afternoon, she lamented the hardships that being that old had brought to her.

I acknowledged that the aging process involves changes that are hard to face. Declining health.  Becoming less independent. Having to depend more and more on others.  

After we talked a bit about all that, I said, “But God has been faithful to us in all sorts of difficult situations through the years, hasn’t He?”

When she agreed, I said, “He will see us through this stage of our lives, too.”

I thought of that conversation again the next morning when my daily Bible reading brought me to Psalm 27, which is a prayer of David. Because of the conversation described above, I paid particular attention to the request David made in verse 9:

The morning after that, the Spirit continued to speak to me about the matter. He brought to mind the words to a hymn I’ve known and loved through the years, as my parents did. The words to “Precious Lord, Take My Hand” were written in 1932 by Thomas A. Dorsey in Chicago, Illinois, after his wife died while giving birth to a child, who also died shortly thereafter. Thus, the writer was no stranger to sorrow and difficult situations.  But Mr. Dorsey wisely asked the LORD to take his hand, linger near, and lead him through the darkness to brighter times.  Listen to the song by clicking here.

Dear Reader, we can relate to Mr. Dorsey’s requests, can’t we? Thankfully, the LORD not only hears but He also says yes to our pleas for His presence and His help, especially when, for whatever reason, we are tired and weak and worn.

As my dear mother so often said, “Whether He spare or share, He will be there!” What a comfort!

The Innermost Part

I’d photographed a small pot of tulips every other day or so for more than a week. 

I’d snapped picture after picture of them when they were tightly encased buds and when they were in full bloom. 

Those stages were a delight to my eyes, but I didn’t like the looks of the dying blooms. So…one day I thought, I’m going to throw them away. They’re way past their prime. 

I carried the pot from the sunroom/office to a counter near an outside door, intending to take the pot to the trash on my next trip outside. But when I took a closer look at their centers, I thought, Oooooh, they’re still beautiful.

Indeed, that part of them—the innermost part—had changed very little, though the petals were showing multiple signs of dying—curling, drying, shriveling, discoloring, drooping….

Upon realizing there was a “lesson” to be learned from the dying blooms, I returned the pot to the sunroom for more photographs. As I did so, I thought, What’s going on with these tulips is true of human life, too. In our youth and even middle age, we are beautiful and admired. But as the dying process takes increasingly heavy tolls on us, little remains of the vibrant person we once were—except for the innermost part! That stays alive and beautiful far longer than the more “showy” parts of us.

Therefore, Dear Reader, despite what’s happening on the outside of us, may we say, as did Horatio G. Spafford (1873), “It is well with my soul,” with that innermost part of us. Even when our physical strength wanes and our outward beauty diminishes, may we say, as did David in Psalm 57:7, ESV:

My heart is steadfast, O God,

my heart is steadfast!

I will sing and make melody!

Inner Beauty

The lavender tulips I’d bought and placed in a glass vase had begun to look droopy and wilted. Their petals had opened up all the way and a few of them had begun to curl and turn dark, especially along the edge. Their stems had weakened and could no longer support the blooms, causing the tulips to face the floor instead of the ceiling. Seeing how they no longer looked liked tulips, I started to throw them away. But when I took a closer look, I realized they were still beautiful on the inside!

Naturally, I just had to photograph them! Late one evening, I carried the vase of pathetic-looking flowers downstairs to my photography studio. I broke off one of the better-looking blooms and placed it in a container that gave a bit more support to the weak stem, which I had already shortened considerably. I finally managed to get the bloom turned upward, though at a slight angle, since it could no longer hold itself fully erect.

I’m glad I photographed the tulip before discarding it, because now I have a beautiful image that reminds me that flowers—and people, as well—possess inner beauty even as their youthful loveliness fades.

That’s a comfort to me, especially as I see more and more telltale signs of aging appearing on my body. Regardless of the changes that occur in my physical body, I hope I will always have “beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God” (1 Peter 3:4, New Living Translation).