Things

During the past two days we held a garage sale. 

We took in over five hundred dollars.
The photo above shows what remains to be donated after the sale.

People today own a lot of stuff.

What makes us want to accumulate so much?  When I was growing up I don't think there were climate-controlled storage units and container stores in every town.  When did we get to be a society that collects things and even hoards things?

When and why did things become so important?

Why do I feel so much better today, knowing that so much extra stuff is gone from my house?

Why do I feel cleansed after clearing out some clutter?

Oh, those profound life questions! 

I know for myself I grew up in the post-war era of the fifties when my parent's goal seemed to be giving my brothers and myself everything possible.  It was an admirable goal and a logical one from people who grew up during the Great Depression.  My mother was also a person who found joy in chronicling our life journey in photographs and with memorabilia, so not only did we acquire many things, we also kept every bit of history that we could, including napkins from our birthday parties and programs from dance recitals.

It was logical then, that when I was old enough to think for myself, I also wanted to acquire things and maintain the history.  I now have several collections and many many scrapbooks and photo albums.  Along with many Americans I also have rooms in my house that are not being used and numerous things that soon become redundant and irrelevant or are replaced due to the need for newer things and more innovative technology.

Now that I am in that magical medicare year--the year I turn 65--"things" are losing their appeal and relationships are by far the more important aspect of my life.  Thus, selling things the past few days was emotionally freeing and exquisitely exciting.  Well, perhaps I exaggerate, but my point is, I am glad that I am no longer attached to things in the same way I used to be, and I encourage you too, no matter what your age, to find more pleasure and satisfaction in people and relationships than in the things that money buys. 

The garage sale was only a step in the right direction for me.  I hope to continue to go through the things I have accumulated and keep clearing the clutter.  As I do so, I find satisfaction in the lessons learned along the journey.  Whether I have the answers to life's great questions or not, I am glad that I have learned that...

...the best things in life aren't things.

From a stitchery that hangs in my hallway:

My house is filled with objects dear

And memories of yesteryear

But treasured even more than these

Is love of friends and family

Home

I have a son who for years has performed the role of a grammar cop in my life.  In fact, I know if he reads this blog he probably won't like that first sentence, and any errors in language usage or punctuation will stick out at him with such intensity he will have difficulty even reading the context of my message.  One mistake I have made over the years, according to him, is my usage of the words house and home.

I apparently used them interchangeably for many years even though I know that house describes a building, but home describes so much more...

The building pictured above has been my home for many years now.  We moved our family of five into this house in 1987 and two years later we added one more member of the family when our fourth child was born.  The house is home now to only two of us--Hubby and me.

Fortunately two of our adult children and a little granddaughter live very nearby so the house echoes with sounds of life often.  We also have part of the greatest generation that live nearby and when my mother and aunts visit, four generations are present all at once.  All of us gathered around the table for a holiday meal is when I know that my house is most certainly a home.

On rare occasions even more of the family makes their way to our home.  And so it is with great anticipation I look forward to my daughter's wedding next month when several people will be gathering in my house before and after the nuptial event.  I can hardly wait for brothers and cousins and nieces and nephews and friends from afar to enter our lives for a few days and make more memories.  I can't wait for the grammar cop to fly halfway around the world and come home again for a few days.  I relish the hugs I will feel as people enter and the laughter and love that will be shared once we are all gathered together.

Our house, as you can see from the photograph, is just a modest American home that has decreased in value in recent years.  Fortunately the value of the house has nothing to do with the value of the home.  The relationships that have grown and the personalities that were nurtured in our home all remain, and are priceless.  Those who grew up in this house are now dynamic, contributing, intelligent residents of the world and have established homes of their own.  And Hubby and I only live here half of the year as we have found a little house in Florida can also be a marvelous home.

Personalities and opinions will soon be flowing through the rooms of this house and memories are just waiting to be made.  I wait with anticipation for those hours we will all share in this wonderful, simple, loving home of mine.

Ponder

The other evening Mr. Jorie and I were seated at a dinner next to a couple we had never met.  They were very interesting, having lived and worked abroad, having pursued many interests and they were even writing a book together.  We chatted as we shared a meal and we talked about where we were from, the type of work we had been in, our interests and our children and grandchildren.  The other couple did not have children.

I got to thinking. 

If my newest girlfriend had no children, I wondered what she pondered about.

I find myself pondering a lot these days...but most times, I must admit, it is my children I am thinking about.  I have often prided myself on being a mother and mother-in-law who does not give lots of advice.  I am ready and willing to do so when I am asked, but I think long and hard on many things before giving advice to one of these dear people whom I love so greatly.

Instead, I ponder, which is an act of personal discipline for me.  Don't get me wrong.  It's not that I don't have an opinion, for rest assured I do indeed have a lot I could say.  During conversations, I listen and converse and love the chit chit, but ultimately I take it all in and then I ponder. 

According to the dictionary ponder means:  to weigh in the mind, to appraise, to consider something deeply and thoroughly.  And that's what I do when I hear from one of my four children.

In the Bible, in the second chapter of Luke, we are told of the story of the birth of Christ.  Then, after the dramatic birth in a stable after searching for more suitable lodging and visits by a bunch of shepherds and their sheep, Mary ponders.  We are told, "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."

I realize that anyone can ponder, and no doubt the new world traveling friends we met at dinner do ponder about many things, however I believe there is a special kind of pondering that only mother's do. 

And so along with Mary, the mother of Jesus, and with mothers everywhere, I ponder...and then I pray....and then I try to get on with living and the enjoyment life has to offer.  And in the discipline, I become stronger, perhaps wiser and maybe even a little more approachable.

Belief

I was born into a family of Christians.  At the age of twenty-one days my mother and father took me to their Lutheran church where the minister baptized me and the congregation welcomed me.  At thirteen years of age, after being taught the faith by my parents and by the teachers in the Lutheran day school and church I attended, I claimed my baptism and was confirmed into the Christian faith.  At that tender age I vowed to suffer even death rather than fall away from the truth of God's word.

I was still a child.  What did I know about faith?  I had heard and read many stories from the Bible.  I had gone to church and Sunday School nearly every Sunday.  I had memorized scripture as part of my homework.  I had grown up in a loving family.  I had a teacher who taught me to love the music of "The Messiah".  I was taught the tenets of my faith as presented in Luther's Small Catechism.  I said my prayers at meal time and bedtime.  I attended Vacation Bible School every summer and learned to sing, "Jesus loves me this I know...for the Bible tells me so." 

My parents, just like their parents and grandparents before them, had done everything they knew to do to raise me and my brothers in the Christian faith.  They stood firm in their belief and trusted simply that God was faithful to His word:  Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way that he should go. Even when he is old, he will not depart from it.  Thanks to their efforts I have never known a time in my life where God was absent.  Their gift to me means more today than it ever has.  Their faith is by far their most lasting legacy to me and the generations that come after me.

I believe that all my parents did for me was God setting the stage for the time when I would come to a very personal relationship with God. 

When I was a young married woman I met a lady in my church named Lonna.  She asked the question that changed my life and the story of my testimony goes like this:  She greeted me after church and asked me how I was doing.  I think I had a ho-hum expression on my face and was going through a very unsatisfying time of my life.  I was working as a teacher but wanted nothing more than to become a mother.  I believe Lonna sensed my true discontentment because when I told her things weren't going so well, she asked if I had prayed about the problem.  Becoming defensive, I answered that I certainly had, and that is when she asked the question that saved my life.  Lonna asked, "Have you left it with the Lord?"

From that moment on, to make a long story short, I realized I had not been living the faith I had been taught.  I was just going through the motions.  Lonna became my spiritual mentor and taught me daily about "leaving my problems with the Lord", trusting that He would hear, would care, would minister and that I did not need to carry my problems by myself.  She taught me about the work of the Holy Spirit and that work became alive in me as we studied scripture together and prayed together.  Lonna taught me to pray--to really pray--by just talking to the Lord, and she taught me how to leave my problems there, trusting that He would help me through them.

During mid-life, God sent another woman of faith into my life to mentor me through the difficult years of medical crises I was to face. Another long story shortened centers around my friend Edie. She lost her only child, a beautiful daughter, in the prime of life to a deadly car accident. In spite of this extreme loss, she and her husband have remained devout Christians and exemplify what it means to walk each day by faith no matter what comes.  They have become like family to me. 

Edie taught me more about prayer, about God's word and about the Christian walk. She taught me by her kind counsel, but mostly she taught me by doing. She talked the talk and, more importantly, she walked the walk. She taught by her loving wisdom. She is a real person who I can relate to who still cries devastating tears because of how much she misses her daughter. The fact that in spite of those tears, she trusts and loves God shows me that I can trust and love God no matter what comes.

Forty some years have gone by since Lonna asked her question in the church yard, but the truth of what I learned that day makes me the person of faith I am today.   I still attend a Lutheran church when I am home in Illinois.  When I winter in Florida my husband and I attend a non-denominational Christian church.  We have attended and been blessed at many different denominations of Christian churches.  The reason this works for me is that I see God working in every church I attend and He can minister to me through His word in many different places and in many different ways.  I don't think God ever planned for His church to be broken into so many pieces, but I do think the Holy Spirit is working in all the pieces as people seek to know God. 

Even with my involvement with churches and the wonderful mentorship of Lonna and Edie, the truth of God's love comes to me in additional ways.  I have felt it standing on a beach, driving through the desert, gazing at a mountain, looking into a newborn's face, holding hands with the man I married, watching a friend's teardrops in moments of intense joy or devastating sadness.  I hear God speaking to me in many ways--in that still small voice as I pray, when reading the Bible, in incredible pain and in sublime contentment.

All that I learned as a child and all that I have learned since helps make me the Christian I am today.  I believe that God created the world.  I believe that in my humanness, I have fallen short and am a sinner.  I believe that Jesus Christ is the true son of God and was born into this world to die upon the cross to rescue me and all who come to Him in faith.  I believe that He rose from the dead on the third day and that I will be with Him in Heaven when I die.  I believe His grace is freely given and available to any who would call upon Him for salvation.  Since He has done so much for me, I believe He has called me to love and serve others. I believe His Holy Spirit lives in me and that He works in my life daily casuing faith and opening my heart to the truths God would have me know. 

I try to base my life and my Christian walk on the commandments Jesus spoke of in Matthew 22:36-40 Jesus replied, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it, Love your neighbor as yourself.  All the law and the prophets hang on these two commandments." 

I know I am not perfect in living the Christian life.  In fact, I don't believe any of us can be.  But day by day, by God's grace I keep working at it.  Day by day, I keep loving and living and trusting that God is true to His word.  I try to make the choices that are pleasing to Him.  I find profound peace in trusting God and I have witnessed in my life, especially in my physical and emotional trials, that God remains faithful to me even in those times when I have been angry at Him or doubted Him.  Through the hard times, I have realized that He has carried me.

So to my dear Dad, who carried a copy of the Apostle's Creed with him throughout his service during WWII; to my sweet Mother who has walked through fires and kept the faith for 89+ years; to my Grandma Witter who always prayed the Lord's Prayer before she went to sleep each night; to my Grandpa Beezy who sang "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty" in the church choir; to my Aunt Ginny who spoke for me at my baptism and then carried me in her heart forever after; to all my forefathers who brought the faith with them to this country; to all my Sunday School and Christian day school teachers who taught with love the stories from the Bible and monitored my memory work; to every pastor I have heard that has preached the Gospel of Christ and counseled me along the way--and to the two who baptized and confirmed my children; to my husband who pledged his commitment to me in front of God forty-one years ago;  to Lonna who taught me how to pray and so much more; to Edie who taught me how to walk with God when I couldn't even walk at all; and to all fellow Christians I have met along the way who have taught and encouraged me, and to all of you who have ever prayed for me--I say a profound THANK YOU.  I love you for changing my life and making me who I am today.

In all humility I thank God for God and with Handel and Mr. Bergt who taught me to love "The Messiah", I say Hallelujah! The Lord God Omnipotent Reigneth.....And He shall reign forever and ever!


May you be blessed to know Jesus as your Lord and Savior if you don't know Him already.  If you want to know Him--or know Him more, just start talking to Him.  He is waiting to take your hand and walk through life with you.

Forwards

(Sunset over the Gulf of Mexico)

All of my friends know that I do not like to clutter my inbox with forwarded emails. 

In the early days of the Internet, the novelty of sending cute little poems, thoughtful ideas, information of the many things you can do with Coke or how to stay safe when attacked were flourishing in my inbox.  At first they were interesting and even informative and in fact, I felt the need to print some of them and file away a hard copy for future reference.  However after a couple years of the same things floating around in cyberspace I got tired of them arriving back to me whether in the same form or in variations.  They became redundant.

Also, never having been fond of chain letters in the pre-PC world, I became even less fond of the emails that came with a threat or a promise.  I actually became angry when these forwarded emails told me I "had to forward within ten minutes" or else! 

Thus, after a couple of years, I began informing everyone on my contact list that I did not wish to receive forwarded emails anymore.  My husband, getting into the whole cyberspace fun a few years after me, was one who was hurt the most by my edict.  He was fresh into enjoying the novelty of all of this information flooding his inbox and he wanted to share it all with me.

I held my ground and even hurt a few feelings along the way, but eventually people got the picture and I did not need to use my delete button nearly as often.  I stopped receiving emails that had been forwarded to a bunch of people at the click of a friend's button.

As time passed however, I began to get an occasional forward in my inbox again, often with a little expression typed at the top from the sender, "I think you might like this one".  Then I felt compelled to take a look because someone near to me thought that I would like what they had taken the time to send me.  I found a newer breed of forwards now with music, colored graphics and animations.  Pictures of babies and puppies with cute little captions flowed from my laptop. 

I realized that I had now created a monster.  People were still thinking about me, and maybe even more so.  When they looked at a forward they were prompted to think, "I bet Linda would like this one!" and with the push of a button they sent their love to me.

Now you ask, how do you get love out of that?  And I say, I know that every forward I now receive is handpicked just for me.  Someone who knows me read it and thought of me, and because they think I will enjoy or benefit from it in some way, they boldly send me a forward knowing my thoughts on the whole forwarding game.  And I think that takes some love.

Today I received a forward from my dear Aunt Jolene.  It was in the category of sugary sweet thoughts on friendship and it even carried one of those "if you are a real friend, send this to everyone on your list, even the person who sent it to you". 

I had to read it--and you know why.  Aunt Jolene was sending her love and I did not want to miss it.  A couple of the points in the list included:  4.  A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.  8.  Someone that you don't even know exists, loves you.  And the one that really touched me the most was:  5.  Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.

I suppose I did not create a monster at all.  I did change something that was a bother and made it into something good.  It works for me and I must say I smile at most of the forwards I get now and I take a moment to look them over. 

Please don't get me wrong.  DO NOT INCREASE THE NUMBER OF FORWARDS YOU SEND MY WAY.  Do know that I love the special attention you give to the ones you do send me.

Tonight, when I fall asleep Aunt Jolene, I will be thinking about you!

Surviving

The Cedars of Lebanon
(photo thanks to my son and his wife)

I now live part of the year in a retirement community.  I have realized recently that each of the people I meet down here in sunny Florida is a survivor.  At first glance, we are living an idyllic existence here with great weather, luxurious amenities and nice homes.  There are numerous activities which allow for pursuing any interest whether it be sports, games, arts, crafts or many other options.  One visiting grandchild called our 55 and older park, "Senior Camp".  Hubby and I have lots of fun here and especially enjoy the seemingly low-stress lifestyle.

The more I live here however, the more I realize that each person here is a survivor of sorts.  I have met two people who were children living in Germany during WWII.  One told me of searching for potatoes to feed her hungry family and seeing her sixteen-year-old brother forced into military service.  While playing cards, a man with a thick accent, told me that as a child he saw piles of bodies in the street and that the photos after 9/11 in this country hardly phased him as he had seen so much horror as a child.  My new 87-year-old Italian friend told me of immigrating to the USA only to have her husband leave her for another woman.  She was left with four children and went to work in a factory in New York City.  These three folks told me their stories only after my inquiries initiated by their beautiful accents.  Each one is living here in my community and enjoying life today.

I have been playing cards with some new girlfriends and have laughed and laughed and enjoyed their company.  One of my friends is nearly blind and so we use special cards that allow her and another partially sighted person to play the game.  Neither of these women ask for pity in any way because of their disabilities, but they do enjoy making "blind" jokes.  They are so much fun to be with and they are living life to the fullest!

One of my new friends goes to dialysis three times a week.  Although often tired, he still enjoys friends and activities.  Over cards the other night I found out that people I have come to call friends have had heart attacks and stents placed.  Some are cancer survivors.  Many folks here have mobility issues as well. 

One night at cards I began to tell my story.  Briefly I told that I had had over thirty surgeries in the past 14 years and that many resulted in complications.  I then felt free to share my personal philosophy that hard times can either make one bitter or make one compassionate.  I consciously made the decision several years ago not to be bitter and angry, and thus, for the most part, I look at my scars and am reminded of the power of God in my life. Therefore I choose to be compassionate, understanding, empathetic and caring to others--especially people going through hard times.  I hope that I too am a good example of a survivor for the people I meet. 

I actually began this post yesterday afternoon before heading to a card game with some of my new girlfriends.  While we were together the news arrived via a phone call that one of our mutual friends had just lost her son.  I had only met this woman three weeks ago.  A friend had told me privately that this woman had lost a daughter to cancer and a son in a car accident caused by a drunk driver and that she was a very caring person in spite of it all.  The news we received last night was that her last living child had been found dead in a nearby creek. Helicopters over our neighborhood in the late afternoon had been searching for him.

Those of us gathered for an evening of cards, good conversation and laughter found ourselves crying, hugging and praying together.  We needed each other.  Women I have known for less than a year shared the deep grief and pain we knew our friend would bear now that all of her children were gone.  Sharing the good and the bad is how we all continue on.

Survivors are we.  All of us here in our retirement community have survived any number of life's hardships.  The older we get, the more we have seen.  There is wisdom that comes with age.  Fortunately there is still a generation alive on this earth that is older than me.  I enjoy being with them because I continue to learn from them.  Even though their bodies are old and frail, they are as solid as the cedars of Lebanon because they know how to stand strong in the face of adversity.  They know that no one is perfect.  They know that life goes on.  They know how to forgive.  They live one day at a time.  They know how much we need each other. 

I am glad  to be here amongst the cedars in central Florida.  What I thought was a land of fun and games has become a great teacher.  There is a wealth of joy here in spite of (and because of) all we have survived.  I am blessed to be here.  This place where I can share my stories and what they have taught me--and--this place where I am surrounded by other "seniors" whose love, wisdom and support surround and teach me.





Siblings

I gaze adoringly, along with my brothers, at the newest member of our family--ANOTHER BOY.  The photo is darling, but I must tell you that when I heard, at the tender age of eight, that my newest sibling was another brother, I was quite disappointed.  I had dreamed of a baby sister to love and care for.  I thought it would be so much fun to dress her up like a little doll and be a second mother to her.

Obviously, when my youngest brother was a toddler, I did pretend he was a little girl and dressed him in the clothing of my Raggedy Ann doll.  Do you think I got a moment of satisfaction pretending he was a girl?  Perhaps, for a moment I smiled, but then again perhaps I was learning one of the many lessons one learns when having a sibling.  Maybe, just maybe, it was the first time I learned that you cannot make someone into something they are not.

The years have passed, so quickly it seems, from the age of innocence to retirement age.  And yet, I am still learning from my siblings.  This summer I learned to truly appreciate the gifts each of my siblings has, while overlooking some of the traits that have irritated me in the past.  Moving my Mother from her home to an Independent Senior Living facility and packing up a lifetime of memories, with the help of my brothers, allowed for my personal growth.

Things I thought I had already learned were learned again.  I learned to speak my own mind and I learned to listen to the ideas of others.  I learned how satisfying it is to work together towards a goal.  I learned that everyone contributes in his/her own way.  I learned that it is okay to have feelings and also that if I get my feelings hurt, I will still be alright.  I learned to respect others and to expect respect.  I learned that each person sees the world from a different vantage point, and that that is the way things are.  I learned compassion by being compassionate.  I learned patience by being patient.  I learned love by loving. 

But really, hadn't I learned all of those things growing up in a family with three other siblings?  Yes, I know that I had, but it was indeed a nice refresher course--one that was apparently needed.

Not only did I grow up in a family of four siblings, I helped produce a family that has four siblings--my own four children, one boy and three girls. 

I wanted a large family, just like my parents had because I realized that having siblings to share life's journey is one of the best teachers a person can have.  I wanted my children to learn the give and take that only comes by growing up with give and take.  I wanted them to learn that their opinion, although valid, is not the only one to be heard.  I wanted them to embrace diversity and yet love unconditionally.  I wanted them to learn that everyone falls short sometimes and also that by falling short, one can learn many valuable things.  I wanted them to learn the joy of forgiveness and the power of a hug. 

Without siblings, perhaps our flaws would never by pointed out.  Where else would we learn that we are not perfect, that we can sometimes be a jerk or that we are not as smart or as pretty or as talented as someone else?  I wanted them to learn that life isn't always fair. Siblings teach us so many things that prepare us for life in the real world.

I know I am still learning from my brothers.  They have each turned out to be wonderful multi-talented men who are an asset to the world.  Each is so different from the other!  Each of them show their love for me in different ways, but I know I am loved deeply.  Growing up with them certainly made me the person I am today and I am blessed to rest in my place in the family.

My hope and prayer for my own children is that each continues to love, appreciate and accept each of their siblings for who they are. I want them to cherish the fact that they are who they are today because of the influence of growing up in a large family.  I hope they can be themselves and acknowledge the strengths and diversity of each of their siblings. 

My advice to each of my children is to totally enjoy the times you are together with your siblings.  Relish the relationships you have.  Learn to live and let live.  Forgive and forget any hurts.  Love unconditionally.  Remember that contentment comes from within and bitterness only hurts yourself.  Don't wait until retirement age (or another minute) to love the way you want to be loved, accept the way you want to be accepted and appreciate the best in each of your siblings.  If you can do that to the people you share your parents with....then you can go do it for anyone...and what amazing people you will be in the world.

...and yes Rob, I have gotten over the fact that you are not a girl...and I love you just the way you are!  What a grand life lesson--to know that disappointments don't last forever--and that  things that appear so negative at first can help teach amazing love and acceptance.  Perhaps your coming into my life helped prepare me for the acceptance I would need in great quantity in midlife.  You have my love and appreciation always.....and Bill and Steve, you do too!