Times Up!

In the past month, two people I know of have passed away due to the same disease I deal with. Two normal men, gone. It is a sobering thought and makes me take a few deep breaths. They made different medical decisions than I have, but I am still reminded that no matter what amazing science I experience, unless the God of miracles intervenes on the physical level, my time will be done soon.

Before this disease, my horizons were long and laden with happy visions of the future. If I didn’t get something done, that was okay. There was always tomorrow, or next year, or retirement season, or….  But now I am reminded that life’s length is uncertain for all of us, even when we think we might know better.

Life has some extra difficulties right now. In recent years I would homilize, “This too shall pass.” But now, with time short, I hear the rush of the sand through the hour glass and its whisper of, “Time’s up.” Instead of waiting for things in life to get better, I realize this may be where I am when I close up the shop doors. No more long horizons. No more “someday we’ll go to New Mexico and drive to Alaska.” No more reality of little Boneski, Smith, Itzhakov, and Lucas babies bouncing around my worn table and screeching through the shaggy fields around my big grandma house. The child-sized porch chairs sit empty on my landing, and even their rocking murmurs, “Time’s up.”

Most of the time I can ride easily on the sinking sand, but lately there are days where I battle not cancer, but grief. I am entering old age early, as I reflect and process, as I prepare for a journey I didn’t think I would take for 40 more years, as I deal with a once-super-healthy body that has increasing aches, quirky sprouts of gray hair, and arthritic hands. Every new pain is suspect. Even too many burps make me wonder if I’m declining. It’s an eye opener. But of course, I am. Most folks take decades to go from 60 to 0. I have nearly done it in a year-and-a-half.

So……  If you know me, you know I talk wisdom to myself when I am discouraged. I refuse to stay stuck in worry and weeping. God made us human beings with great capacity to overcome. I am so grateful for that. He also has given us the opportunity to make connections and experience the loving support of a host of precious people, like our own ministering angels. Furthermore, He blesses us with rich encouragement in His word. Finally, I am NOT out of sand, and am cherishing every day that remains.

Perspective adjusts, when we face serious trouble, no matter the age. I’m reading a fascinating book called Being Mortal. While reading this morning, I came across a paragraph that summed it up so well, “As our time winds down, we all seek comfort in simple pleasures–companionship, everyday routines, the taste of good food, the warmth of sunlight on our faces. We become less interested in the rewards of achieving and accumulating, and more interested in the rewards of simply being. Yet while we may feel less ambitious, we also become concerned for our legacy. And we have a deep need to identify purposes outside ourselves that make living feel meaningful and worthwhile.”

For me, the priorities have been relationships with my people and with God. This vision focuses to crystal clear. As I find myself in this valley, I find that I do not walk alone. The blessing of relationships nurtured, returns to me ten-fold. The comfort of God is evident daily.

The word of the Lord in Isaiah 41:10 fills me with peace. “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” He has given me the comfort of being carried, when I cannot carry myself.

 

Three O’clock in the Morning

It’s becoming a pattern now, waking up at 3 in the morning. Tossing around and tangling the covers. Working towards a comfy position. I have a busy mind that must “labor to enter in to rest.”

I usually analyze things like this — It must be the stress of wedding planning, anticipating future medical choices, deciding how to live the years I am given. There is so much to consider. And then I talk to myself, “This is not the time to think about these things. Go to sleep!” (That’s as effective as telling someone to ‘calm down,’ or ‘relax!”)

I’ve discovered that the best strategy is to make the most of the night hours, and as I doze, I pray. I pray for my family, for my friends, for the world. It’s a windfall of unexpected time. It’s sloppy prayer, as I edge towards sleep, but I know God hears.

Sometimes I think about important things. Have I loved my family well enough? Am I being a good friend? How will I make it through tomorrow? What will the doctors say at the next appointment? More than once in my life, the quietness of the dark has allowed me to hear God’s inspiring answers. All distractions are still, and I can listen, meditate, and hear.

As I ponder the big pilgrimage, I am reminded that a peaceful heart comes from the Lord. Psalm 4:8 tells me, “In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, LORD, make me dwell in safety.” I don’t need to succumb to fear. God’s awake and on the job. I can rest in his arms. I use healthy visualization to help me slumber. Sometimes, I picture myself being carried by Jesus like a child, through this darkening valley. I am not alone. I can rest.

What I think on is critical. If I start digging deep, scary holes in my path, I’m going to stumble. Instead, Psalm 4:4 reminds me, “Tremble, and do not sin; Meditate in your heart upon your bed, and be still. Selah.” Evidently, it matters. Am I sinning by remaining focused on my fears, rather than on faith? While it’s okay to acknowledge fears, what am I “meditating” on? God calls us to think on the true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy. (Phil. 4:8) It’s seems even a command to have a renewed mind and to embrace mental light. This direction transforms me and brings me tranquility.

Earlier in that stretch of scripture, the Lord reminds us to pray, and to do so with thanksgiving. I’m usually so busy asking for this and that for my kids, for myself, for my life, that I am like the blessed leper that is healed and only later remembers to come and give thanks to Jesus. Gratitude expressed in prayer does great work in our hearts.

When my mind feels led to fear at night, or anytime, I deliberately do the worthwhile and somewhat corny “gratefulness exercise.” What am I thankful for? Answer, and keep answering. It can feel a little annoying at first, but anxiety is reduced. Peace begins to take over once again. Even social work professor Brene Brown teaches this biblical truth. She shares: “Get Deliberate: When I’m flooded with fear and scarcity, I try to call forward joy and sufficiency by acknowledging the fear, then transforming it into gratitude. I say this out loud: “I’m feeling vulnerable. That’s okay. I’m so grateful for ____________.” Doing this has absolutely increased my capacity for joy.”

Okay, and sometimes, if I REALLY can’t sleep, I’ll get up and gently wear myself out with a warm shower, a cup of tea, an undramatic book. As my eyelids grow droopy, I tuck myself back in to bed. Snuggling deep, embracing my extra pillow or warming up by my toasty husband, I relish the fact that I don’t have to get up yet. I can sleep, because the all-powerful, all-wise, all-loving Creator God is ever awake. “He will not let your foot slip–He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber not sleep.” (Psalm 121:3)

I hear the lullaby of Jesus. He sings it so softly, inviting us all, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

Hum along in the stillness of the night, answer Him with yes, and find peaceful rest.