I have not had a problem facing any of the "big" birthdays in my life. None of them depressed me and I actually looked forward to being 30 and 40, etc. , like now maybe I would actually be a "grown-up". I guess being the baby of the family I was always trying to "catch up" with my big sisters who are 14 and 16 years older than me and have been adults in all of my memories of them.
But I have a confession to make. This September will be my 60th birthday and it makes me gasp to think about it. It sounds OLD! Like medicare and nursing home old. I have tried to make light of it. I don't feel old and just thinking about that number seems surreal...like didn't I just turn 30 (oh wait, no, I have three children older than that! oh my!) Then I decided I would do something that would make me look forward to it. I have really wanted to host a colonial style ball and I thought "Oh that would be the perfect time to do it!" I discarded that thought when Ryan was deployed to Afghanistan. Somehow I just couldn't celebrate at a ball when my baby was off fighting in a war. Sigh! Yes, I am looking forward to the celebration we do have planned...three days in Virginia Beach with the family.
But still would get that knot in my stomach when I would think of that dreaded number. Maybe it is all the changes that life is bringing. We are empty nesters now and although I do enjoy all the alone time with my love and the freedom it brings, I have to admit I miss feeding a family...and coming home to an empty house is not the high point of my day! I guess part of it is a fear of the future...will I be soon disrupting my children's lives as they have to care for me? Not a pleasant thought...it is humbling to be the cared for instead of the one doing the caring. Sigh! Yes, I realize that was pride once again raising its ugly head.
But last week my attitude took a change. I had been reading through the book of Ecclesiastes for a couple of weeks. It has never been my favorite book of the Bible. It is now. God spoke to me and showed me things in this book I had never seen in other seasons of my life. The last chapter is all about growing old but the verse that really jumped out at me was verse 7: "...and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it." I remember stopping at that verse and mulling over it and coming back to it several times. The deterioration of this body should remind me daily of the vanity of this life and how it is fading away and bringing me closer to the day when I will stand before my Creator clothed in the righteousness of His Son, Jesus, in my glorified, never aging body where I will spend eternity in sinless praise of Him and doing the work He has for me...forever!
The chapter ends with, "The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil." And once again, as I face another adventure with God, He has reminded me as He has over and over through the adventures of the past 59 1/2 years...my job is to seek Him and obey Him, He is in charge of the results, certainly not me! To God be the glory forever and ever!
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
A Different Mother's Day
I have to make the confession that this is a Mother's Day I have not been looking forward to. I enjoyed the years of homemade cards and being taking out to dinner on Mother's Day to Rax Roast Beef by excited little boys (actually a great place to go on Mother's Day because we had the place to ourselves!). Then one by one they left (as they should) and had families of their own to celebrate with. My mom and Bill's mom passed on but we still had two boys left at home and they did their best to make mom feel special. Until this year. In September Shawn left the nest to begin life with Andi and this Mother's Day they will be "parenting" a group of teens in Florida on their OBCA senior trip...a happy reason not to be here. And Ryan is on the other side of the world putting his life on the line to help preserve freedom. That should be a happy reason not to be here, too, but I still feel a little sad.
It was easy to start having a pity party of one but I am choosing to count my blessings this Mother's Day. How glorious to know God chose me to be the mom to five men who, though far from perfect, make me proud to be their mom (because I was far from perfect mom!) And the three who are dads to my 15 (going on 18) perfect grandchildren give me joy in the matchless grace of Jesus as I watch them take parenting to the next level. I couldn't have chosen better daughters than the ones God has given me through love, although not birth!
And, of course, this day makes me think of my mom. The greatest thing she gave me was unconditional love. I don't think there was anything she would have given me, if it was in her power to do so. Okay, so I didn't have a clue how to do laundry or clean a house when I got married because, being herself thrust into adulthood before fully grown, she desired a carefree childhood for her daughters. I have had 39 years and six men to practice that on. Happily, I did have some experience cooking, not because my mom taught me (she ruled in the kitchen!) but because she gave me such a love of good home-cooked food that I wanted to do it myself. And she was gracious enough to allow me to ban her from the kitchen as a teenager so that I could pore over cookbooks and spend whole Saturdays putting together a meal for our family or my friends (while she would poke her head in and laugh at me for chilling the pie dough...or comment, "Oh you cut your tomatoes THAT way?') She loved me as a child by feeding me what I wanted, not necessarily what was best...Campbell's alphabet soup instead of her homemade vegetable beef soup or canned ravioli instead of steak...baking just the filling of stuffed green peppers because I didn't like them. And I guess it didn't hurt because I am no longer a picky eater (once I started having to cook for myself!) Showing love through her culinary talents was what she did best and we all loved being loved with her Sunday roast beef dinners (never varied...roast beef and gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans...cooked for hours, corn, rolls, Watergate salad and some kind of pie), her pots of vegetable beef soup when anyone was sick or grieving (the one thing of hers that I can do well), and all kinds of pies. We found that we had to be careful in telling her we loved something because it would be served until we couldn't stand the sight of it anymore. Bill found that out when he came to dinner when we first started courting. He raved over her tomato gravy...and we all knew what was going to be served whenever he came to call after that. And I found out that it was a mistake to rave about someone else's cooking (especially when I had been to Bill's house for dinner). I came home after having Bill's chicken pot pie for the first time...and the first time I had ever had that dish...singing the praises of her cooking. Well, mom learned how to make chicken pot pie and we saw lots of it in the weeks thereafter! And I can never eat Kentucky Fried chicken without thinking of my mom's. I have given up after many failed attempts to duplicate hers. It was every bit as good as KFC's even though she skinned her chickens before frying. I have never been able to figure out how she got that crisp coating just right, not too brown and not soggy. I look forward to it in Heaven without the calories!
Being a mom is so tough for this reason: it is so intense for so many years and then you have to let go and shoot those arrows out into the world. I have to admit I liked the intense years much better than the letting go ones! But God is so good and His grace has been so abundant in my life that I praise Him for the experience of motherhood and the joy of watching them take off! (Grandchildren ease the pain immensely, too!)
It was easy to start having a pity party of one but I am choosing to count my blessings this Mother's Day. How glorious to know God chose me to be the mom to five men who, though far from perfect, make me proud to be their mom (because I was far from perfect mom!) And the three who are dads to my 15 (going on 18) perfect grandchildren give me joy in the matchless grace of Jesus as I watch them take parenting to the next level. I couldn't have chosen better daughters than the ones God has given me through love, although not birth!
And, of course, this day makes me think of my mom. The greatest thing she gave me was unconditional love. I don't think there was anything she would have given me, if it was in her power to do so. Okay, so I didn't have a clue how to do laundry or clean a house when I got married because, being herself thrust into adulthood before fully grown, she desired a carefree childhood for her daughters. I have had 39 years and six men to practice that on. Happily, I did have some experience cooking, not because my mom taught me (she ruled in the kitchen!) but because she gave me such a love of good home-cooked food that I wanted to do it myself. And she was gracious enough to allow me to ban her from the kitchen as a teenager so that I could pore over cookbooks and spend whole Saturdays putting together a meal for our family or my friends (while she would poke her head in and laugh at me for chilling the pie dough...or comment, "Oh you cut your tomatoes THAT way?') She loved me as a child by feeding me what I wanted, not necessarily what was best...Campbell's alphabet soup instead of her homemade vegetable beef soup or canned ravioli instead of steak...baking just the filling of stuffed green peppers because I didn't like them. And I guess it didn't hurt because I am no longer a picky eater (once I started having to cook for myself!) Showing love through her culinary talents was what she did best and we all loved being loved with her Sunday roast beef dinners (never varied...roast beef and gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans...cooked for hours, corn, rolls, Watergate salad and some kind of pie), her pots of vegetable beef soup when anyone was sick or grieving (the one thing of hers that I can do well), and all kinds of pies. We found that we had to be careful in telling her we loved something because it would be served until we couldn't stand the sight of it anymore. Bill found that out when he came to dinner when we first started courting. He raved over her tomato gravy...and we all knew what was going to be served whenever he came to call after that. And I found out that it was a mistake to rave about someone else's cooking (especially when I had been to Bill's house for dinner). I came home after having Bill's chicken pot pie for the first time...and the first time I had ever had that dish...singing the praises of her cooking. Well, mom learned how to make chicken pot pie and we saw lots of it in the weeks thereafter! And I can never eat Kentucky Fried chicken without thinking of my mom's. I have given up after many failed attempts to duplicate hers. It was every bit as good as KFC's even though she skinned her chickens before frying. I have never been able to figure out how she got that crisp coating just right, not too brown and not soggy. I look forward to it in Heaven without the calories!
Being a mom is so tough for this reason: it is so intense for so many years and then you have to let go and shoot those arrows out into the world. I have to admit I liked the intense years much better than the letting go ones! But God is so good and His grace has been so abundant in my life that I praise Him for the experience of motherhood and the joy of watching them take off! (Grandchildren ease the pain immensely, too!)
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