Our BFFs

Our BFFs

“My best friend is the one who brings out the best in me.”

Henry Ford

I’m not really sure how we ended up with such great friends. Six of our friends; three couples, come to mind. We’ve known them for so long that we can sometimes finish each other’s sentences. I sometimes think they know us better than we know ourselves. I spent time hanging out with some of them recently—it’s my favorite thing to do. I’d sacrifice a meal or walk a long distance to just chat it up with them, in silly times as well as the more serious. Recently we were brainstorming; I’d asked for some insight for our current conundrum. They didn’t disappoint; each brought a piece that carefully fit into my current life puzzle. I was grateful and encouraged by their insights. Being with them helped me.

I don’t know when it happened; if we were logging miles in the old mini-van enroute to soccer matches, or reading the Christmas story for the hundredth time, or if Tom and I were swept away in Poldark‘s English countryside?  All I know is somewhere along the way our children became our best friends.

Our children shot up like Jack’s beanstalk and we hardly noticed. I remember a photo of our younger two kids with Tom and me at a homecoming basketball game. A Facebook friend commented, “Are they really that tall or are you just very short?” I’m pretty average in height, but I hadn’t realized how they’d towered over me. They just shot right up without our permission. It just happened.

Who knew that this could happen? When I was changing diapers, blocking babies from the stairs, and reading Curious George I never once thought, “These kids are going to be my close friends one day. On the entire planet, they will be my favorite people to be with. It won’t even matter if we’re doing anything at all. I will cherish their very presence and personalities and their adultness.”

By rote, and numb repetition at times I prayed for them to be wise. They are wise! I prayed that they would love the things God loves and they do! I deeply hoped they’d know how much they’re loved by God. Against all doubting and wondering if this parent experiment would work, they know the Truth much more deeply than we did at their age. #grateful

One Saturday morning years ago, I was cooking breakfast for a table full of ravenous  teenage boys. A thought came to my mind, “You don’t even know who you’re serving.” It reminded me that all acts of love are done without our awareness of the ultimate outcome.  Who knew the character and accomplishments that would be present in the lives of those boys? God did.

The little kids around your table—you can’t see what the future holds. One day when they’re taller and stronger than you, they may drive to your house when you’re sick and can’t take care of yourself. They may lovingly transport you to the hospital when you can’t walk in your own strength. Keep on walking in courage and faith, young parents—you don’t know who you’re caring for. There’s no vocation more noble and crucial in the world!

Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a real blessing.”

Psalm 127:3 (Good News Version)

 

Maturing

Maturing

Old age, to the unlearned, is winter; to the learned, it’s harvest time.

– Yiddish saying

I’ve come to disdain all the talk about getting old I hear from people in  their forties, fifties and sixties. It’s relative, right? We are truly getting older everyday. But must we constantly call ourselves old?

I recently chatted with a bank teller I hadn’t seen in awhile, exchanging niceties. I commented, “I’m doing well, just a bit older than last time I saw you.” Her reply has stuck with me. “Well that’s a good thing!” It is a good thing. Being older means I’m still alive!

For me, growing older happened overnight.

First there was that course black hair in the um… cleavage region that my daughter so kindly pointed out to me. I can still see her look of shock.

Then there was the time our son returned home to find us scooted up close to the TV with the volume turned up so loud we didn’t hear him come in. In our defense it was a foreign film!

The once silent knees now like to complain on steep mountain hikes.

Generic ibuprofen is purchased in the value-sized pack.

The precocious red-headed five year old, in my care, inquired about the whiskers.

Our prayers are long and laborious–and comical– multiple aching body parts have now made the list.

We are maturing. It took me by surprise. Not too long ago I was 35. Then I was 40 and all was well. But there was that day I showed up for a dermatology check up. I filled out the intake form and came to that pesky little space for age. I stopped and pondered—I’d had a birthday just that week. Was I 50??? No that can’t be right. So I did the math on scrap paper and it was actually true. I was 50. The only birthday to that point that mocked me and rang with disbelief.

When 60 rolled around I felt like everyone would look at me as an old person. They wouldn’t know that on the inside I was still young. It’s interesting how we make judgments by looking at someone’s exterior when we have no idea about their souls. I feel like an announcement is called for.  “I may look older and feebler but I am me—even more me than I was earlier!”

This is the time of life when I hold onto every positive comment. Recently a nurse taking my vitals stared at me for several moments and said, “There is no way in h*** you are 63!” I grinned for days…

There are things I love about having lived longer:

  • Comparison becomes less important. You begin to give others freedom to be themselves which frees you to be yourself.
  • It’s harder to criticize people when you’ve either walked in their shoes or know you could’ve.
  • Your life station has made a spot for you. Knowing your passions and gifts; the way you’re wired, helps you to know your calling and how you can contribute.
  • You can be more effective. There is only one you and no one has exactly the same assignment. You’re comfortable being unique; having opinions and strengths and weaknesses. They all make you who you are.

My hope is to make the most of the days and years and not be mad at God when things don’t go as I’d wished.

To cherish the moments as they come because they truly are gifts!

To invest my life in the tasks that I believe were designed just for me. Not to copy someone else’s schedule or lifestyle.

A life verse I adopted many years ago seems more applicable as the years go by.

“The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the Lord they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, “The Lord is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him.”

Psalm 92: 12-15