Riding Without Training Wheels!

Posted on September 30, 2013 by jroesler728

I had just asked God how He wanted to reveal Himself to me today when my phone notified me that someone had left a message. It was my seven-year-old granddaughter. (I gave myself permission to interrupt my reflective time with God.) He knows and shares the joy that is mine when I am with this child.

The message said simply, “Besta, call me as soon as possible.”

My return call was waiting to be answered.  It took a while, though, for me to understand what she was trying to tell me as the exhilaration in her voice overpowered the words.  I knew it was something totally delightful. Finally I got it. She had ridden her bike this morning without training wheels.

I celebrated with her, asked for every detail, soaked in her joy and suggested that now we can ride together. We ended the phone call both happy to have talked to each other.

As I returned to my contemplative time with God I asked, “What do you want me to learn about You today?”

I smiled as I sensed His answer. “I want you to ride with Me without training wheels.”

Since I was reading Psalm 84 I looked for some ideas of what this ride would look like.

“Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.”

“Blessed are they whose strength is in you.”

“Blessed is the man who trusts in you.”

Maybe the training wheels that need to come off are lack of praise, looking for strength from some other place and placing my trust in some other thing.

I wonder, though, if what God’s heart longs for is for me to call Him with such elation that He has trouble understanding my words. (A time when I have encountered Him at a deeper level.)  What I will be trying to say is “My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.” But all He will hear is my joy that now we can ride together.

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Waiting for the Morning

Posted on September 25, 2013 by jroesler728

 

I am sitting in the dark, listening to gentle music, sipping hot coffee and watching the stars that God has hung in place, remembering that He knows their name.

 

I am waiting for the morning. I know it will come. It always does.

 

The change will be almost imperceptible as light imposes and the darkness becomes less sure of itself.

 

Then, a dramatic messenger from the east will stun the whole picture as with blazing glory all is overtaken and nothing looks the same.

 

The entrance is never exactly the same. Some days the clouds are outlined in a rim of purity. Some days a shy pink color heralds the main character. Today I am expecting to see a ball of fire that will rise to a perfect circle as the burning red becomes a glowing yellow and then yields attention away from itself and simply supplies the earth with light.

 

The trees, that were silhouettes become covered with bright green leaves. The stars have slipped out of sight. It no longer matters if the small light by my chair is on or off as the light from outside the window overpowers it.

 

I am sitting in the dark with some pages of my life story. I am waiting for the morning.

 

I know that in these dark personal places there is much beauty that I cannot see. I know the light will shine again.

 

Some of us are already thankful that the light has come. Some of us are asking how long?

 

I want to be one who waits for the morning with trust in the One who always keeps His promises.

 

Wait with me for the morning.

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A Good Use for a Husband

Posted on September 22, 2013 by jroesler728

I asked my grandchildren (ages 5 and 7) to “help” me make a birthday cake for my sister. Since my sister is obsessed with losing weight, I bought all the ingredients at the health food store and convinced her that since everything was organic there would be no calories. 

Our dinner was a bit chaotic as they always are when the kids are with me. Since I have no culinary skills all meals at our house are confusing. For this one, the children had noodles, a fried egg, and yogurt. My husband and my sister shared a small pizza (they didn’t want an egg with it) and I had an egg with sautéed greens. The children were unable to finish their dinner. I said, sadly, that I was sorry because that meant there was no room in their tummies to eat our cake. 

They patiently explained to me that the reason they felt full was because they were saving room for cake. Now that I understood that I served generous pieces of cake to everybody but the cake pan was still half full.

I insisted that my sister take the cake home, reminding her again that it had no calories. Not convinced, she said that was a lot of cake for her to eat by herself. 

Then, looking for a way to solve this problem, my 7-year-old grandchild asked my sister if she had a husband. Widowed for twenty years, she explained that she had a husband once but doesn’t have one now. 

“Well,” this grandchild replied looking at the cake, “it would go a lot faster if you had one.”

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The Freedom to be the Receiver of Grace

Posted on September 20, 2013 by jroesler728

 Yesterday someone told me that aging brings with it a resistance to being a receiver. A fear of dependence surfaces the childish response, “I can do it myself.”  An offer to help a person in such a place is likely to be seen as an offense. 

Earlier in the week a lady called me and asked if I knew of anyone who wanted to earn $50. She said she needed a ride to the dentist and a taxi would cost $60. I told the lady I would look for a volunteer. She said she had a man who usually takes her but she felt she was asking him too often. On probing further I learned the volunteer driver had said he enjoyed taking her because he had nothing else to do. The answer to her need seemed evident to me. I said, “Ask this same man to take you. He needs something to do.” She laughed and agreed. 

I wonder if God finds me to be a reluctant receiver. Even reluctant to believe the riches that are mine in Christ. 

My last blog talked about the grace to be diminished. Maybe this one needs to balance that one by talking about the grace to be blessed. 

Let’s give someone the joy of being a blessing today. 

I have already decided that if someone wants to spend time with me, pray for me or offer help in some way I am going to say, “Yes, Thank you, that would be delightful.” 

I am even going to give that response to Holy Spirit.

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The Grace to be Diminished

Posted on September 18, 2013 by jroesler728

I first heard this phrase several years ago from a wise mother speaking of parenting her adult children. It refers to the expensive love of a parent pouring sacrificially into their child with the goal of this child being able to walk on without needing them.

 Aging brings with it opportunities to practice this grace.

 As we listen to the Holy Spirit we may hear that our role in someone’s life or in a specific ministry has served His purpose.

 Am I praying for the grace to fade?

 Can I celebrate being diminished in a relationship that I have learned to cherish?

 Am I scanning the generation that is following me for those He is equipping for the ministry that has been entrusted to me? 

Do I know how to grieve but not as those who have no hope? 

This hope reminds us that we will never be diminished in the eyes of Him Who created us for Himself. 

May we hold all things loosely as we rest in His grip.

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How Do I See Myself?

Posted on September 16, 2013 by jroesler728

I recently learned that a group of ministry leaders were being asked to do an exercise in character development. 

One of the steps asked the participant to “Describe yourself by identifying the animal you most feel like or the vehicle that is most representative of your self image.” 

What if instead of the expected answers like turtle or Hummer we would name Jesus? 

Is it really true that when the Father looks at me He sees His Son and that He can then do nothing but love me?

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The Gift of Encountering a New Friend

Posted on September 13, 2013 by jroesler728

 Most of us remember our best friend from childhood. It is common to be asked for this name as a security question when setting up an Internet account.  I have not seen a security question that asks for the name of a new friend who has entered your life as you are navigating “Faith through Aging Eyes.” 

One might expect that the longing for someone that connects with your deepest self would become less necessary as the years pass. But does this need to belong, to be trusted, and to be understood ever diminish? 

Most of us reading this blog have needed to delete friends from our contact lists.  I find that hard to do even when the reason is physical death. I am grateful that there is no time in life that is too late for building new friendships. Some, in fact, seem to simply be gifts from God. All of a sudden there is someone in your life that loves you and you have done nothing to earn it. 

What if we are not designed to make it on our own even in the autumn of our lives? 

What if our desire to be like Jesus means that we live our lives with the intimacy that is modeled in the Trinity?

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The Diary of a Cat

Posted on September 11, 2013 by jroesler728
Takker

Takker

This is a page from the diary of my 9-year-old Siamese cat. His name is Takker, pronounced “Tucker” because he came to me as a gift on Thanksgiving and Takk is the Norwegian word for thanks. These are Takker’s own words written in the first person in his diary.

I am trying not to be depressed. I really have a very good life. I will be ten years old on October 6. When I was 7 weeks old, Roselyn’s best friend, Jean, bought me and brought me to Roselyn’s house as a surprise present on Thanksgiving. I was wrapped in a red fluffy blanket. Jean knew it was a risk but Roselyn loved me immediately once she saw my eyes peering from the middle of the blanket and figured out I was a real kitten. (At first she thought the blanket may have been a pie but when she held it she knew it was too light.) 

I meet Roselyn at the door when she comes home, never leave her side, sleep with her at night and let her cut my toenails. 

I thought everything was “purrfect” but then I caught a glimpse of a disturbing email today. It was from the veterinary clinic suggesting that I sign up for Senior Wellness. There was a test for Roselyn to take to see if she knew the risks of having an aging cat. One of the questions was about changes in weight and swimming was recommended for exercise.

I weigh 13 pounds but I am very muscular. I know swimming is a big deal for Diana Nyad, and I am glad for her but being immersed in water is a nightmare for me. If cats needed to be baptized I would have to be a Lutheran. 

I have lost 3 ounces. I barely eat enough to keep me friendly, as it is. 

I don’t know if Roselyn will fall for this wellness scam. She’s pretty astute when it comes to medical issues. She did buy a toothbrush for me. She admitted that when she was standing in the line to pay for it  she was glad her Dad was not alive to see it. That’s pretty astounding as she and her Dad were tight as can be but she knew he would have thought she had lost her mind. 

I do know she has given her coworker’s daughter, who is studying to be a veterinary assistant, permission to practice putting me in a carrying box and possible giving me a bath. I can only hope it will be a sponge bath with a dry cloth as I am as clean as a whistle. When I am not sleeping I am refreshing my fur. I am happy to help a young person seeking a career in animal health. I think I will be delightful to work with as I have a personality that has been nurtured by love and I watch for ways to give back.

 I only hope this senior wellness eamil gets deleted quickly and that I don’t need to get an attorney to get permission to refuse a bath. 

Sometimes I wish I lived on a farm. 

I think Rosleyn does too.

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Freedom to Seek Extravagance

Posted on September 9, 2013 by jroesler728

It is one of those phone calls that melt my heart. My granddaughter, age 6, is asking me to take her to the store. She’s only initiated phone contact a few times so her planning this event for us to be together brings me joy. Actually, the sound of her voice is all I need to feel like the day is flooded with light.

As the plans develop, I learn that this child has saved up a total of $4.59 by “working.” Her mother wisely suggests that we go to a variety store where small items can be purchased for as little as 35 cents. The expectation is clearly one where this can be a first step in learning what things cost and how to prioritize so that your money stretches as far as possible.

This seems like the plan until we are on the road and she announces that she wants to go to Wal-Mart. She is not asking about Wal-Mart as an option. Her mind is made up. I concede.

“Do you have something special you want to buy there?” I ask.

“Yes,” came the confident reply.

She takes my hand in the parking lot and says, “Besta (Norwegian for Grandmother), could you get me a gift card for Wal-Mart for my birthday? Before I can answer she adds, “Actually, you could buy me something, wrap it up and then put the gift card in the birthday card.”

Why do I find this freedom delightful?

Once we are in the store I am being strongly led by this small child who has only one thing on her mind. She is determined to find the one item that she has already chosen.

After searching all the toy isles we ask an employee for help. I am ready to give up when the item is discovered. It is a little box with two diapers, one bottle containing milk and the other orange juice. “It’s all for my Teddy bear,” she explains.

Then came the sticker shock. The price was $4.69!

Now what do I do?

As the reality sinks in that this is not a job for a grandmother I am asked, “Besta, do you have a dime.”

“Yes, I do” as I rationalize that that my goal is to bring this little girl home happy. “Her parents can teach her to manage money!”

I do feebly explain that if she buys this she will have spent all her money on one thing but that comment bounces away before it hits her ears. She is too busy scanning her item to confirm the price.

We walk to the counter and stand in a long line. There are not many cashiers on duty. By the time our turn comes, the line behind us is even longer. My grandchild proudly empties her purse and the counter is covered with pennies and nickels with many toppling onto the floor. As I glance at the waiting line I see some sympathetic to my experience and others whose patience has grown thin.

I “help” by using some of her loose coins for payment, scooping most back into her purse and completing the payment with my $20 bill.

I bring home a happy grandchild and tell the parents this was not a lesson in financial management. With a sigh, the mother answers, “But that was the point.” Then she laughs at herself for even thinking such a thing.

As I review this story, I am thinking about my prayers. Do I maintain an awareness of His joy when He hears my voice? Can I trust Him with the desires of my heart knowing He will never give me anything inconsistent with His purposes? Does He love to give to the one He loves?

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How Does It Feel to Be Left Behind?

Posted on September 6, 2013 by jroesler728

by-Shirlee Vandegrift

How does it feel to be left behind? Were you ever left, or did you do the leaving?

It was over 50 years ago that three other mothers and I took turns driving our children to the various schools in the morning. The number of passengers varied day by day but the frenzy was much the same. “Mother, where is my jacket? Mother, did you pack bologna in my lunch (I did.) You know I hate bologna. Mother, sister won’t get out of the bathroom. She is making me late.” As I sat in the car on the driveway I could feel the temperature rising, and I don’t mean the weather.

Somehow everyone got to the right place at the right time. I breathed a sigh of relief as the last child jumped out of the car. There now, that wasn’t so hard was it? As I pulled into our driveway I glanced at the front door and, much to my dismay, there was my youngest daughter (about 5) hanging onto the screen and crying as if her heart would break. Where was I? She must have been waiting what seemed like forever for me to come back for her. After all, I was (and am) her mother. How could I forget one of my own? To this day the picture in my mind of that little girl at the door can still bring tears to my own eyes.

How did she feel? Frightened? Hopeless? Frantic? Alone? And I? How did I feel?

It only took a split second for me to put myself in her place and I was so sad. If only I could take away her fear, her loneliness, her panic. If only I could erase the picture in her mind’s eye of being left behind…left behind by a person she thought she could trust. If only I had taught her about Jesus. If only I was on speaking terms with Him then, as I am today, over 50 years later. I could have assured her that even though I forgot her, Jesus never would. He loved her then and He loves her to this day. When we stand at the door of hopelessness, when we fall behind the pack of good guys, when we elbow our way into the dark places of the bad guys just so we can belong, Jesus is there. He will dry our tears, quiet our fast beating hearts, speak comforting words that heal and he will BE the hedge of protection. He will never leave you (behind) or forsake you.

You can count on it. I have.

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