Category Archives: Getting old

Love ’em or hate ’em, we’ve got goals

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It’s been more than eight weeks since my last blog post, so I’m cringing as I review my goals for 2016. One of my primary goals was to blog weekly. By that standard, epic fail.

But I don’t want to focus on failure, I’d rather look at progress.

In 2016, I published 22 posts. One of the reasons I stopped posting was because I’m preparing to launch a new blog. I’ve written four as yet unpublished posts for the new blog and spent MANY hours planning and learning how I can make my next blog better. That means I wrote 26 blog posts in 2016. How many did I post in 2015? Seven.

I’m going to say I halfway achieved my goal and made good progress.

Last January, I had a list of ten goals, and I only fully achieved two of them. One was to run a half marathon, which my daughter Rebekah and I did in May on a misty, bone-chilling morning from Gloucester to Rockport, Mass., and back.

A half marathon struck me as very long. I'd do it again. Maybe. A marathon? I can't see that happening.

A half marathon struck me as very long. I’d do it again. Maybe. A marathon? I can’t see that happening. I don’t like to punish myself that much.

The other one was to lose five pounds. Now I know most of you are probably going to hate me a little (or a lot) right now, but it was the first time in my life that I tried to lose weight. I’ve always been one of those disgusting people who could eat whatever they wanted without getting heavier. I used to come home in tears because I was a rail-thin kid who got teased and had a lot of nicknames (Bones, Spider, and this very creative one named after a popular kids’ game at the time: Pick Up Sticks). My revenge was as I progressed through my 20s and 30s, I didn’t have to watch my weight.

When I was pregnant with Rachel, I had a hard time putting on weight and my doctor told me to consume shakes and malts and multiple desserts. I gained less than 20 pounds total and Rachel weighed 8 pounds, 10 ounces. Once I gave birth, my abdomen would never be the same, but my weight didn’t change much.

Going home from the hospital with newborn baby Rachel. Talk about terror. You mean they're really going to send us home with her?

Going home from the hospital with newborn baby Rachel. Talk about terror. You mean they’re really going to send us home with her?

Funny thing about getting older, your metabolism slows down, and it finally caught up with even good ol’ Pick Up Sticks. In my 40s it started to inch up, maybe just a pound a year. Nothing too concerning, but one day your favorite pair of jeans refuse to button.

I decided I would join hubby Shawn in a show of solidarity and diet with him in January. Shawn has succeeded multiple times in losing weight simply by counting calories. I downloaded the My Fitness Pal app on my phone and started tracking. After a month, I’d hit my goal of losing five pounds.

I did pretty well at maintaining my weight while I was training for the half marathon. Running 10 miles at a time will do that for you. But later in the year, the scale began a discouraging climb. From Halloween through New Years was just a whole lot of holiday indulging, which meant I gained back almost everything I lost.

Self-control is hard, y’all. That’s why I think it comes last on this list:

22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. -Galatians 5:22-23

I’ve heard that the fruits of the Spirit build upon one another. Self-control without love, joy, peace and the rest can quickly turn into self-righteous legalism. In this life, we’re never going to achieve perfection in the fruits of the Spirit. But that doesn’t mean we stop working on it.

More important than the deliberate attention to physical health is the conscientious focus on spiritual health. If I’m not spending time seeking the Lord in reading the Bible, praying and looking for His hand at work around me so I can join Him, the fruits of the Spirit are going to be withering instead of thriving.

One of the most beautiful aspects of following Christ is that spiritual fitness doesn’t have to decline as you advance in years. At 51, I am not able to run as I did at 21 or 31 or 41. My body is wearing out. My knees ache on the trail and my hips complain when I sit cross-legged on the floor. Science and experience tell us we lose muscle mass, flexibility and skin tone as we age.

There are no such barriers to spiritual health. I can be more of a prayer warrior at 80 that I was at 40.

16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. – 2 Corinthians 4: 16-17

So I want to have a new goal this year of drawing closer to Jesus. What does that look like in practical terms? A good goal should be measurable.

One I’d like to accomplish this year is to read through the Bible. I’ve been involved in a lot of Bible studies in recent years, but it’s been a while since I’ve deliberately read the Good Book cover to cover. I’ve started by using a reading plan on biblegateway.com.

On New Year’s Day at Northwood Church, Pastor Bob Roberts challenged us to read through the Bible in 2017. He reads it every year and says he reads three chapters in the Old Testament and one in the New Testament. He mixes it up between the historical chapters in the OT and the wisdom literature (Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and Song of Solomon) and alternates between the Gospels and the Epistles. He’ll read through Matthew, then go to Romans, then to Mark…you get the idea.

As far as other resolutions, from a spiritual standpoint, I decided to choose one word as my focus for 2017. My word is grace, both God’s unmerited favor and the Holy Spirit empowering me to do His will.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” – 2 Cor. 12:9

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.” – Romans 5:1-2

What about you? Do you have a resolution or a word for the year?

 

Learning to let go

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Lovely light just before sunset at our catfish pond in Kansas. Sigh... It's my happy place (one of them, anyway).

Lovely light just before sunset at our catfish pond in Kansas. Sigh… It’s my happy place (one of them, anyway).

God knows I am pretty dense sometimes, so He helps me out by hitting me up side the head with stuff.

Three times in three days from three different sources, I heard the same message: surrender.

In a couples’ Bible study, we are reading Chuck Swindoll’s book, “So You Want to be Like Christ.” The chapter we studied was about surrendering, releasing our grip. He mentioned surrendering our possessions, our position, our plans and our people (specifically mentioning children).

“Once you make the choice, the hardest days are the earliest. You have become so accustomed to carrying a great weight that releasing it will naturally upset your balance. Learning to walk without it will feel awkward at first. Keep your eyes fixed on Christ and walk slowly. As you regain your balance over time, you’ll be amazed by the growing intimacy you share with Him…”

The next day, I read Priscilla Shirer’s study of Jonah where she talks about letting go and mentioned Chuck Swindoll teaching on loosening your grip (and his example was children).

The following morning, I opened up a devotional by Lysa Terkeurst on biblegateway.com. She wrote, “Sometimes I struggle trusting God with my kids.”

This season of life has me learning to loosen my grip on my children. They are 18, 21 and 24.

What I’m realizing is how little control I have over their choices.

If you look at the whole cycle of parenting, there are lots of little moments (and not so little moments) of learning to let go. You’re glad to see your baby take his first wobbly steps but sad when he doesn’t want to cuddle in your arms. You cry a bit when your daughter heads off to kindergarten while cheering her mastery of new bits of knowledge. You swallow the lump in your throat when your teen heads out the door, keys in hand, for his first solo drive. And most definitely when you leave that baby in her dorm room and head back home, you know things will never be quite the same.

How do you let go?

The answer came to me a few days ago.

“Be still and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10a

First that verse showed up in the book I was reading, “Switch On Your Brain” by Dr. Caroline Leaf. She talked about the importance of taking time for introspection, self-reflection and prayer. We do NOT have control over everything that happens in our lives, but we can control our responses. The more we strengthen our minds, the more we’re equipped to give responses that bless rather than harm. We choose thoughts that help our health and encourage others, not those that feed bitterness and strife.

That SAME morning, I read the daily Biblegateway.com devotional from Proverbs 31 Ministries. It was written by Liz Curtis Higgs. Her key verse?

“Be still and know that I am God.”

Again, I’m back to where I started. God WILL hit me with the same verse and same message from multiple sources, sometimes within the same hour. It’s a fun game we play together (here’s another post along those lines, “How to know when you have confirmation”).

The message was clear. Focus on knowing and trusting God, not agonizing over problems (real and imagined).

When it comes to your kids (or anyone else, for that matter), do what you can to build them up, pray, give thanks that God is in control and choose to stop your struggles and trust Him.

What keeps you up at night? How much control do you have over that? Take positive steps where you do have control and let go of the rest. Hand it over to the one who can handle it or help you cope.

“Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?” – Matthew 6:27

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests go God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 4:6-7

 

An end is also a beginning

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Two weeks ago today Shawn and I dropped the last kid off at college, and I’m still in shock.

Where did those 18 years go, or the nearly two and a half decades of having kids under foot? The days crawled but the years raced.

We followed Anna’s battered blue Dakota up Highway 377 to the University of North Texas and sat in a traffic jam in the middle of orange construction barrels on Eagle Drive while hundreds of other families waited their turn to pull into the dorm parking lot. We got off the main drag a few blocks early and found spaces in a parking lot just one street over from her hall. Shawn, Anna, big sister Rachel (there at her sister’s insistent request), and I grabbed boxes and headed to her dorm.

A bit unsure and nervous, Anna took charge anyway and went to check in and get her key while the rest of us waited by the boxes on the steps out front. She came back breathless and triumphant, lanyard looped around her neck. Her room was on the fifth floor (aren’t they always?). The line for the elevators went out the door and down the block, so she led the charge to the nearest narrow stairwell.

Up, up, up we went, squeezing against the hand rail and orienting the box just right every time we passed students and parents on their way down the five flights. After several trips and copious amounts of sweating, we had most of what she brought in her room. Then there was moving furniture and the awkward task of making a lofted bed in tight quarters: layering on mattress protector, memory foam, pad, fitted sheet, flat sheet and her Grand Bette-made UNT green quilt. Anna may or may not have bumped her head on the acoustic tile ceiling. Rachel may or may not have made a trip hefting a heavy box from the parking lot up to the fifth floor before realizing she was in the “B” wing and would have to go back down to the ground floor and across the courtyard to the “A” wing and up another five flights.

Shawn and I pose with Anna, our UNT girl. Her room is only half way set up, but she was ready for us to go.

Shawn and I pose with Anna, our UNT girl. Her room is only half way set up, but she was ready for us to go.

We got a few of the boxes unpacked, then Anna declared lunch break. We went to one of her favorite restaurants, Chipotle, even though Kansas cattleman Shawn doesn’t like to go there because they get all their beef from Australia. On this momentous occasion, he went with zero complaints or snide comments.

Then we went across the street on a Target run for a power strip, fan, gluten-free snacks and other assorted items, angling our cart around the aisles crowded with back-to-school shoppers. Once we got back to her dorm room with a last load of supplies, Queen Anna said, “You can go now.” She wanted to finish setting up with her friend and roommate Ashley and without parental units and sister taking up valuable floor space.

And that was it. After so many years of dreading the moment, I felt numb. The 45-minute drive back to Keller was quiet but not somber. When we got home, we still had Rachel visiting for another ten days. Rebekah is dividing her time between taking a few classes at the University of Texas at Arlington and a part-time job at The Keller Pointe, so she is living at home. The empty nest is not empty yet. And that’s okay.

I teared up late that night when I looked out the front door for Anna’s pickup and remembered why I didn’t see it at the curb. But she’s been home twice in the last two weeks, and I saw her in Denton twice. It makes a difference having her so close. Taking Rachel to A&M and dropping Rebekah off at KU her freshman year were much harder.

Part of the reason I’ve not been more mopey is because two days after we dropped Anna off, my step dad (a UNT alumni and big fan of the Mean Green) lost his long battle with cancer. Known for his wry sense of humor, his affection for all things Denton, and his willingness to go out of his way to help someone in need, Bud will be missed by many friends and family members. His passing had me thinking of the bigger picture and spending more time with my mom.

Bud sitting behind the wheel of his beloved 1957 Chevy convertible.

Bud sitting behind the wheel of his beloved 1951 Chevy convertible.

The end of active-duty child-rearing can be the beginning of new adventures with a wider scope than just the folks under my roof. More time to explore near and far. More opportunities to grow in giving to others. More knowledge that each moment is precious. If you’re a mom or dad in this perilous place of transition, allow a little mourning for what is gone, then seek the “mores.”

Life is full of challenges and changes. Some we anticipate for years and others catch us by surprise as one season ends and a new one begins. But we can know this. God has everything under control and will use all of it for our good, if we’ll let Him.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” – Ephesians 2:10

If we’re still drawing breath, God’s got good things planned for us to do.

 

What will get your Olympic effort?

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My first memory of the Olympics was watching Soviet gymnast Olga Korbut, “the darling of Munich,” compete in 1972. I was 7 years old and captivated by her charm and athleticism. A neighbor down the street had a three-foot tall fence that became my balance beam. I’d scamper across it and pose, dreaming of adoring crowds and medals.

Olga Korbut, a star of the 1972 Munich games, cast an Olympic spell over 7-year-old me that continues to this day.

Olga Korbut, a star of the 1972 Munich games, cast an Olympic spell over 7-year-old me that continues to this day.

Having absolutely NO gymnastics skills, poor flexibility, sub-par coordination and a tall, lanky frame with minuscule upper body strength, my chances of becoming an Olympic gymnast were zero. But I never stopped marveling at what those small but mighty athletes could do.

Ever since 1972, I’ve been a fan of the Olympics. From Mary Lou Retton and Florence Griffith-Joyner to Simone Biles and Michael Phelps, I’ve watched in wonder at it all.

Michael Phelps has 28 medals, 23 of them gold! Inconceivable! He says Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis, an outspoken Christian, and the book "Purpose Driven Life" helped him get back on track after he was arrested for his second DUI.

Michael Phelps has 28 medals, 23 of them gold! Inconceivable! He says Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis, an outspoken Christian, and the book “Purpose Driven Life” saved his life after he was arrested for his second DUI.

This past week I’ve short-changed my sleep and dragged my way through some days with an Olympic hangover.

What does it take to be a successful Olympic athlete? I’d say innate talent, dedication and mental toughness.

No matter how hard I trained, I don’t think I would ever be a gymnast. God didn’t bless me with that kind of frame. The only sport I ever tried where I had some success was running. I briefly held the school record in the 880 (yards, people, because I’m old) at John Marshall Junior High, but it was broken a few years later.

I had enough dedication to run track and cross country in high school, but I didn’t have the drive to become great at it. I didn’t have that single-minded determination and will. That could have been a combination of lacking talent and mental toughness and it was absolutely an absence of sacrificial devotion.

That said, I still lace up my running shoes three days a week and pound pavement. I’m excruciatingly slow compared to the rail-thin, bouncy teen that used to win an occasional track medal in the Wichita City League. When I get a medal in a race now it’s usually because there weren’t that many 50 and older women running. You can outlast the competition in a whole different way!

I find that running brings me a kind of quiet joy. I dislike the treadmill because I’d rather be outside with my crazy running buddy. If I’m in a challenging season, a run will relax the tension in my shoulders or put a bit of the old bounce in my step. A walk can work wonders, too. Now that I’m an older runner, I don’t run daily. Even a short walk will boost my mood. For me, it’s the combination of movement and nature. I also sometimes do a 10-minute exercise video for strength training because I know I’m losing muscle mass and prone to osteoporosis because of my slender frame.

Yep, here she is again. My ever-eager running buddy. She's always good to go!

Yep, here she is again. Elektra, my ever-eager running buddy. She’s always good to go!

Whether you run or walk or cycle or golf, let those Olympic efforts remind you of the responsibility we all have to take care of our bodies. Most of us are not called to be Olympians, but all of us are called to certain roles, some of them only we can do. Managing our health helps us maintain the devotion and mental toughness to continue to do what God created us to do, from caring for kids or parents or spouses to learning at school, building businesses or serving others.

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been purchased at a price. Therefore, glorify God in your body.” – 1 Cor. 6:19-20

“Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified.”  – 1 Cor. 9:26-27

Turning in my “active duty mom card”

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Last weekend this mom survived two big milestones.

Anna, my youngest, graduated from high school on Saturday. Two days later, she turned 18.

In honor of her old favorite "Junie Bl Jones" books, Anna C. Engelland is a graduation girl!

In honor of her old favorite “Junie B. Jones” books, Anna C. Engelland is a graduation girl!

In just the space of 48 hours, I had no more K-12 kiddos and no more minor children. It’s enough to make a mama swoon.

I’d been simultaneously anticipating and dreading those moments for many months (years?). I wanted to celebrate my daughter, whose impish, strong-willed, fierce-loving start hinted at the creative, determined, fierce-loving young woman she would become.

But a part of me feels like I’m turning in my “active duty mom card” because technically, all three of my kids are adults. I’m mourning the passage of the era of raising kids. I’ve been at it for almost a quarter of a century, but sometimes it seems to have passed in a blur.

The first kid graduation I celebrated was my oldest daughter completing kindergarten. That was almost exactly 18 years ago because my youngest was born just a day and a half later. I tell a lot of people that I never drank coffee until the youngest arrived. I had a first grader, a preschooler and a colic-prone baby. That’s a certain recipe for sleep deprivation, making caffeine an essential part of my daily diet.

Rachel, 6, cuddling with her one day old baby sister.

Rachel, 6, cuddling with her one day old baby sister.

Rebekah at 3 1/2 gets a kick out of holding her newborn sister for the first time. Anna, not so much.

Rebekah at 3 1/2 gets a kick out of holding her newborn sister for the first time. Anna, not so much.

Boarding the Trinity Railway Express to Dallas in 2001: Anna, 3, in her "lay-o" Veggie Tales dress lovingly made by GrandBette, Rachel, 9, carrying her own camera, and Rebekah, 6, sporting the Powerpuff Girls T.

Boarding the Trinity Railway Express to Dallas in 2001: Anna, 3, in her favorite outfit, a “lay-o” Veggie Tales dress lovingly made by GrandBette; Rachel, 9, carrying the family video camera while holding her sisters’ hands (typical oldest child stuff); and Rebekah, 6, sporting the Powerpuff Girls T.

Now the sleep deprivation comes from hot flashes or because I’m worrying about one or more of the young adult children. What you don’t realize as a young parent looking ahead is that your job isn’t really over when they turn 18 or graduate from high school.

As your kids grow up, you give them more and more responsibility. You coach and hope and pray that they have faith in God and in themselves.*

They make mistakes. A lot of them. You make mistakes. A lot of them. But the older they get, the more you realize that you as a parent have very little control. You transition from a very “hands on” role to more of an advisory capacity. You have been and always will be one of your child’s primary role models. They will do what you do or vow to be nothing like you.

I hate to break the news to all you young parents out there, but parenting older teens and young adults can be harrowing at best, heartbreaking at worst. Sometimes when you want to rush in and rescue, you stand back and wait. You keep your mouth shut when you long to give the 142nd lecture on a topic. You pray more for your kids than when they were little because the challenges are huge and the solutions are out of your hands.

But in all that, you get to see your child becoming. Their frontal lobes are not fully developed, so you can’t expect total “adulting” dominance, but you see glimpses of how the soft-hearted child becomes the compassionate young adult, or the obstinate, strong-willed kid becomes the determined, focused 18-year-old.

When they struggle, you seek God all the more and focus on the long haul. You look for glimmers of hope and choose to count blessings. And you choose to love.

*Jesus teaches in Matthew 22 that faith is powered by love:

36 “Teacher, which is the most important commandment in the law of Moses?”

37 Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.”

Rachel's graduation in 2010.

Rachel’s graduation in 2010. Great smiles from all my girls.

Rebekah's graduation in 2013. Two down, one to go!

Rebekah’s graduation in 2013. Two down, one to go!

A happy day celebrating our last Keller High School graduation.

A happy day celebrating our last Keller High School graduation.

Why we need to walk in the light

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Morning came early today, too early.

What used to be a rare occurrence now happens all too often. I wake up in the middle of the night and have to visit the facilities or my inner furnace kicks into overdrive (infernal inferno, anyway). Once the critical state passes, my mind refuses to drift back to dreamland.

I now understand why “Momo,” my much-loved, Texas-tough belle of a grandmother, used to spend the wee hours of the night seated at her kitchen table with a deck of cards playing solitaire.

In my teen years, she played the game on her Apple II. As an early adopter of personal computing, she used hers for three primary tasks: accounting spreadsheets (she was a savvy businesswoman), writing letters to far-flung family (Uncle Clifford’s got the gout again), and playing card games. Momo was something of a card shark – Bridge, Hearts, Canasta, she’d win ’em all – although she was known to throw a game of Go Fish to her grandkids. The computer didn’t stand a chance.

I digress…

Back to this morning. After awaking at 12:55 and again at 4:13 and killing time by reading on my phone (my hand-held computer), I rolled out of bed at 6:19. Since daylight savings started a few weeks ago, that hour is still quite dark.

I made a cup of hazelnut cream coffee in my beloved Keurig and pulled my Bible, study book and journal off the shelf. I was so tired that I longed to go back to bed, but that wasn’t going to happen. The bright fluorescent kitchen light hurt my eyes, so off it went. I settled in with my Bible study and tried to focus by the 60 watt lamp next to the couch. With my aging eyes, I could either turn on more light or pull off the glasses.

Side note for all you youngsters who don’t need reading glasses yet. Near-sighted older folks have an advantage over those with better vision. If you pull off your regular glasses, you can read the tiny Bible print even in dim light. When I’ve got myself more pulled together later in the morning, I’ve put in my contacts and need reading glasses for fine print. Oh, cruel vanity!

Anyway…There I was relishing the shadows while bringing my Bible near my glasses-less nose. For Northwood Ladies’ Bible Study, we’re in 1 John with Kelly Minter’s study “What Love Is.”

“If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true, but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.” – 1 John 1:6-7

I realized that my tired, discouraged self was craving the darkness, not so I could commit a bunch of dastardly deeds but to avoid dealing with my messes. You can’t see the dog hair tufts on the carpet or the cobwebs clinging from the ceiling when the light is dim.

Now, yes, I need to clean house literally, but I’m going for the metaphor here. I need God’s light to show me where I can clean up my attitude and get rid of harmful habits that are the dirt and clutter of my inner world.

In our study, Kelly Minter had us look at 1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” She asked us to confess any bitterness, jealousy, strife or “any areas the Lord shows you.”

I thought, “I don’t have harsh feelings toward others right now, so I’m good.” Then I felt that Holy Spirit pang. “Wait a second, Sandra, you are often quick to forgive and ask forgiveness of others, but you hold on to anger over your own failings.”

God was getting up in my business again. I believe he was prompting me to turn on the light and see that he is bigger than any of my failings and move on. Focus on blessing others rather than wallowing in self-pity.

A few weeks ago, our family took a Spring Break trip to the Great Southwest. We spent our first night in the aptly named View Hotel in Monument Valley. All the rooms have balconies on the east side, so you could get a glorious view of the sunrise. Shawn and I were in one room and the girls were next door.

The two of us bounced out of bed (unexpected bonus: getting older makes it easier to wake up) to watch the sky turn from navy to violet to rose and fiery gold behind three terra cotta towers (East Mitten, West Mitten and one I can’t remember). The sky put on an awe-inspiring show, but my phone camera didn’t capture the beauty very well. The iconic buttes looked like black blocks because they were backlit, meaning the source of light was behind the subject.

When I turned the opposite direction and snapped a photo of Shawn lit by the first rays of the sun, the colors of the nearby mesa (not to mention the handsomeness of my man) were on full display.

Monument Valley sunrise

This photo was snapped seconds after the previous one.

This photo was snapped seconds after the previous one.

It only occurs to me now, after reading these verses from 1 John, that anything we put ahead of God is going to turn dark. The way we get the best picture is by shining the Lord’s light on the subject. Light comes from God; “God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.” – 1 John 1:5. And it is found in his Word: “Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.” – Psalm119:105.

 

 

 

Why I won’t be playing Powerball

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Okay, so I was planning to write a post about Freedom from Unrealistic Expectations (a.k.a. “The Great Christmas Card Fiasco of 2015”) but the craze surrounding the stratospheric payout of the Powerball lottery prompted me to tackle it instead. Look for the scoop on Christmas cards next time.

As of today, the lottery is estimated at a mind-blowing $1.3 Billion (yes, Billion with a capital B), that’s about twice the amount of the next largest amount ever won. An article on cnn.com said that in a one-hour period in Texas yesterday $5.8 million in tickets were sold. When I checked, my odds of winning were 1 in 292 million.Powerball Jackpot

I think most of us can identify with the fun of dreaming what we would do if we suddenly had vast riches dumped in our laps. I could drop $400 on a purse without thinking about it. Going to Hawaii like Shawn and I did last month wouldn’t be a rarity. We could have multiple vacation homes and travel wherever we wanted to go. We could give lots to charity and bless others.

But I worry about what the lottery would do to my motivation. Would work become less important than pleasure seeking? Would I expect money to fix a lot of my problems and be disillusioned when it didn’t? Would all that wealth wreck my family in the long run? What would happen to my attitude and gratitude?

Now that I’ve turned the Big 5-0, I think more about my legacy. Winning the lottery would really screw up my legacy. I’ve been very blessed by those in past generations of my family, not by life-altering inheritances but by their examples of hard work and careful management of their resources. Shawn and I have received inheritances and gifts but not to the extent that we could abandon working for a living. Those blessings have enhanced our family life and allowed us to make investments for the future.

That’s what I want to give my children and hypothetical grand children. Not so much money that it makes them lazy and entitled but careful gifts here and there that remind them of the benefits of hard work, planning and living within one’s means.

Shawn reminded me of his favorite Warren Buffett quote: A very rich person should leave his kids enough to do anything but not enough to do nothing.

I am beyond blessed to not have to fret about finances, and I know I am not exactly normal in that. If I were living paycheck to paycheck, I might be more tempted to spend a few bucks on lottery tickets and dream of not having money troubles. But the thing is, when you have money, you’ve got to spend time managing it. We’ve been learning that as our assets grow, we have to pay more attention to a lot of details. And guess which detail-oriented person at our house gets to do most of that? Not the happy-go-lucky creative one (thanks, honey!).

If we won a billion, our focus would be on managing that money and using it. I don’t think I would be as motivated to write, and I wouldn’t be as inclined to share life lessons with my girls on getting the best deals at Kroger (use the card, look for savings, accumulate those wonderful fuel points). Would giving lose a lot of its meaning if it wasn’t any kind of sacrifice?

Maybe it is God’s plan for you to win a billion and use it to help others, but as for me, it just doesn’t fit. I think it would mess up my motivation and wreck my legacy, so I’ll just be thankful for what I have and keep planning for the future.

What’s Inspiring this Fresh Start

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Aloha and Happy New Year!
For the first Monday in 2016, I’m trying to make good on one of my goals for the year: to blog once a week, or so. I hope that you will find my posts encouraging and entertaining.

My first trip to Hawaii blew my hair and my mind!

My first trip to Hawaii blew my hair and my mind!

A couple of circumstances are inspiring me to make positive changes.

This year, my youngest daughter will graduate from high school. I want to both dance a joyous jig that would totally embarrass her and moan a dramatic dirge to the end of the line for raising school age kids (which she could either find appalling or hilarious).

With this impending milestone of her departure for college, I want to make the most of my time. I’m a mom in transition. I also turned 50 in 2015, a number I have problems associating with myself. No thank you, I don’t want that AARP card!

I used my restlessness over the last few days to try to be more intentional in my approach to 2016. Last week, I did several things:

They all have similar themes of making thoughtful, intentional plans about making the most of life in your current season. My goals are different than my friends Jill and Kala who are moms of young children or my good buddy Anne who is single and teaches at a mission school on a Navajo reservation.

I came up with a short list of goals. One of them is to post regularly on the blog and another is to plan fun times with my family.

For the blog, I’m not going to wait for an inspiring idea. I’m going to make myself post something. I hope I don’t disappoint my seven avid readers… (I love you, Mom!). I’ve decided that if I post five more times by Feb. 15, I will reward myself with something I want but don’t really need.

On the family fun list, we’ve been wanting Anna to decide where we will go for Spring Break (must be in the continental U.S.). I’ll help her get started because planning trips is one of my passions. Shawn and I went on an amazing Hawaii vacation last month, which I planned through VRBO, TripAdvisor and other online resources.

What about you? Do you have any New Year’s resolutions? Do you have any advice for how to stick to your plan?

Yes, it is as lovely as it looks.

Yes, it is as lovely as it looks.

A comic in my own mind: embracing my inner goofball

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Here’s one thing I’ve learned over the years: if you learn to laugh at yourself, you’ll find a lot more humor in life. I like to laugh, and the older I get, the more I’m inclined to laugh at my own mistakes.

The Bible says laughter is good medicine. I think the Proverbs 31 woman was able to laugh at the future because she knew enough to find humor in her own gaffes. People who take themselves too seriously weigh on others. Instead, let your humor be that shot in the arm that lightens their steps, right?

Every once in a while, I’ll do something funny enough to share with others. Go ahead! Laugh at my airheadedness! It’s got healing properties.

Twice in the span of a few weeks, I was a comic in my own mind.

The first one involved my curly often out-of-control hair. The other day, I swear I looked like BTTF’s Doc Brown, only dyed blonde.  Daughter Anna showed me a can of dry shampoo that she’d quit using because it wasn’t dry enough. A few days later, I wanted to try it to see if it would help tame my wild locks in between real shampoos. I went to the girls’ bathroom and grabbed the can of spray, shook it vigorously and spritzed my hair. It wasn’t too wet and toned down the frizz. A pretty good solution, I thought. No wonder people like this stuff. I used it probably half a dozen times.

Several weeks later, Anna asked me to buy her some more dry shampoo, and I told her I’d been using her old stuff and found it still worked okay. She picked up the can on my bathroom counter, looked at it and said, “This is not shampoo, it’s deodorant.”

No wonder I’d had such a hard time washing my hair after using the spray! I bust out with the best deep belly laugh I’d had in ages. Of course, my teenager thought I was crazy–bonus! Moms of teens, embrace that super power.

In my defense, if you look at this picture, the two cans look very similar. Also, if you are

Dry spray could be interpreted a couple of ways!

Dry spray could be interpreted a couple of ways!

late 40s or older, you will understand that I’m really not reading a lot of fine print and directions like I used to. Most of the time, I just wing it. That way, I hardly ever need my reading glasses…

The second instance may also have been attributable to difficulty reading small print, but more likely, I was just in a hurry.

Hubby Shawn was in D.C. to give a presentation on a big project he’s leading at work. That morning, I grabbed my phone and texted “Praying for you. Love you!” and hit send. Seconds later, I heard the buzz for an incoming message.

My boss, Alice, texted me “What’s up?”

Okay, I think you can see where I’m going here. I’d just professed my love to my boss. Fortunately, she has a good sense of humor.

In my ladies’ Bible study last week, Beth Moore talked about not being a poser and not falling for posers in this information age.  During my Tuesday morning run, I happened to listen to Michael Hyatt’s podcast and his co-host, Michele Cushatt was sharing what she learned about the transforming power of suffering while battling cancer. She said, “Perfection never creates connection.”

Who are we trying to impress with our Pinterest perfection? Let’s get real, people, and tell others what’s on our hearts, be it deep pain or just silly embarrassment.

Today, that means to me,

embrace your inner goofball

and the gift of laughter as you share those moments with others.

Now where did I put that deodorant?