Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. [Psalm 139:16 (NIV)]
By living in Florida, we’ve escaped the polar vortex and winter’s ice and snow. Regardless of where we live, however, there’s no escaping the winter of our lives. When we roll out of bed with assorted aches, need our cheater specs to read the paper, become intimate friends with ibuprofen, know the day of the week from our pill boxes, and nervously compare our ages with those on the obituary page, it becomes painfully obvious that, while able to flee from winter’s frigid weather, there’s no dodging the winter season of life.
In spite of a few complaints, I’m reasonably content with my winter. I’d never want to give up the confidence, wisdom, peace and perspective that come in this end season of life. Nevertheless, I’m sorry to say farewell to the vitality, enthusiasm and freshness of spring; the beauty, growth and intensity of summer; and the productivity, abundance, and fulfillment of autumn. As rewarding as it is to see my children and grands develop and mature, it saddens me to see the toll those same years have taken on other people I know and love. Winter has been downright cruel to many of them. Sadly, some of those I loved didn’t even make it to this season of appreciated blessings. They never had the opportunity to sit quietly and read to a grand or grow old with the one they loved. There are gaps in my heart where they lived and my memories of them will never quite fill those holes. Nevertheless, I feel blessed to have made it this far.
We thank you, God, for the seasons of life. Help us recognize the beauty and joy of each one. Give us the wisdom and serenity to accept that time passes, changes take place, seasons are unpredictable, heartbreak happens, health is precarious, and farewells are unavoidable. Reconcile us to the transformations that occur in each of life’s seasons. May we always remember that, while everything has a season, there is no one season in which we’ll have everything.
Summer ends, and autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night. [Hal Borland]
With John’s purchase of his sporty new car, I thought I was done writing about Lynn Johnston’s comic strip For Better or For Worse and temptation. I’d forgotten all about Ted, John’s friend, who suggested a “spicy dish” and some “after hours recreation.” Shocked, John had said, “Your wife wouldn’t put up with you messing around!” Ted smugly replied, “Oh she suspects…The trick is—never let them know for sure!!” Six weeks after appearing in that comic, Ted reappeared in another one. When Ted grumpily refused a ride in John’s new car, John wondered if he’d gotten out of the wrong side of the bed. No longer smug, Ted dejectedly responded, “Doesn’t matter what side of the bed I get out on anymore…My wife left me.” I didn’t see that coming and, apparently, neither did Ted!
As I looked through my basket of Christmas cards, I thought of all the people who have passed through my life. Contained in that basket is a fair amount of sorrow and misfortune—divorce, heart failure, assorted diseases, surgeries (some successful and others not), heartbreak, disappointment, cancer, mental illness, addiction, paralysis, birth defects, financial difficulty, and loss. Yet, within that basket, I also find hope, faith, resilience, peace, joy, perseverance, strength and love. There are children who defied the odds, families facing tremendous challenges with great courage, people who’ve forgiven the unforgiveable, widows and widowers meeting their new normal with confidence, hurt people determined to heal, caregivers finding strength to continue when many would quit, parents prayerfully waiting for prodigals to return, and people who can still laugh in the face of adversity.
In preparation for my mother-in-law’s 100th birthday, I’ve been creating a timeline. After perusing a century’s worth of history, I juxtaposed high points in her life with what was happening in the world around her. During her life-time, my mother-in-law saw the advent of everything from three-colored traffic lights and the Monopoly game to E-Z-Passes and X-Boxes, from pop-up toasters and World Book encyclopedias to microwave ovens and Google, from rotary dial phones and the first airmail to iPhones and email, from the first transatlantic flight and Admiral Byrd’s South Pole expedition to space shuttles, lunar landings and Mars’ probes.
As the weather up north cools, our snowbird neighbors have begun returning to their southwest Florida homes. One neighbor recently arrived from Portland, Oregon, a city that ranks third in a list of cities with the most depressing winters. Their weather forecast alternates between cloudy with rain showers to partly cloudy with a 60% chance of rain and that’s not likely to improve! Their early November temperatures will range from highs in the mid-60s to lows in the mid-40s with a UV index that never gets above a 2. On the other hand, our ten-day forecast fluctuates between sunny and mostly sunny with no more than a 10% chance of rain. Temperatures will rise to the mid-80s during the day and fall to the mid-60s at night; the UV index is 6 or 7. In short, Portland is damp, gray and dreary and we’re dry, warm and sunny (and should wear sunblock). On my neighbor’s first day back in our tropical paradise, while relaxing on her lanai with a book, she happened to fall asleep. Upon waking, hearing the mockingbird’s happy song and feeling the warm gentle breeze on her face, she had a moment of confusion and forgot where she was. Feeling incredibly peaceful, relaxed and refreshed, for a moment she actually thought she’d died and gone to heaven!
Saturday morning, my husband and I arrived at a nearby park for our morning walk. Banners and tables were being set up for a fundraising walk. Giving it no thought, we continued onto the trail where we saw signs indicating the event was for suicide prevention. As we returned to the community center, we heard the mournful sound of bagpipes and found the participants gathering, many of whom were wearing shirts in memory of loved ones they’d lost to suicide.
