Christmas Traditions

Growing up, I didn’t think about tradition very much. Tradition seems like such a formal word yet I know that our family had many holiday traditions. As the years went by with our children, I realized that if we did something they liked just one time, they were ready to consider it a tradition.  Although I’m sure most everyone has their own Christmas traditions that have developed over time, I’d like to share some of ours.

First, we’ve never done the “Santa” routine with our kids. Before we were even married, Tim said that he didn’t want to have our kids believe in a Santa who delivers presents. I wanted to have them believe since that’s what I grew up with, but once we had kids I changed my mind.  I always told people the reason we chose to let them know that the presents were from us is because I’m needy and I wanted them to be excited and thankful that we’d gotten them the presents, and not have the glory go to Santa Claus. We were careful to let our kids know the Santa beliefs of others and (except for one slip up that went unheeded) they were good to keep the secret for others.

Since we wanted our focus to be on the birth of Christ, our first decoration to go up after Thanksgiving was our nativity scene that Tim’s mom made for us.  We also have many nativity scene ornaments and decorations around the house making it easy to keep our minds on the true reason for Christmas.

We have gotten a real tree every year. I now think it would make sense to get an artificial tree, but have been met with resistance—even from myself. When decorating, we listen to the amazing a cappella Christmas album, An Evening in December, by First Call. I am a selfish (yet again) mom. I put the lights on the tree and do my decorating first. Then the kids have their time to put their own decorations on the tree. 

Christmas Eve tradition begins with going to the service at church. When we get home, it’s time to watch Claymation Christmas, a favorite that I remember watching on TV when I was growing up. The kids are allowed to open one gift on Christmas Eve. Since I don’t put their gifts under the tree ahead of time, they open gifts from each other. Eggnog is usually included in the evening, but I know it hasn’t been done every year. I would call it a faulty tradition….

Although we don’t have Santa deliver presents, I still like the awe and wonder of coming down on Christmas morning and seeing presents under the tree that weren’t there the night before. I would wait until the kids went to bed to put their wrapped presents under the tree and stuff their stockings. Thankfully, they still want to be surprised as adults. They now stay up later than I do, but they’re willing to stay out of the “Christmas tree room” and not look at their stockings when they walk by so that I can get all of my work done without staying up all night.

With a strict rule to not wake us up before 7 a.m., the girls (at 7 on the dot) would run into our room and get in bed with us. Their brother wasn’t quite as anxious, although he realized that the girls would not-too-kindly wake him up if he didn’t get himself up in time. (I kind of think that was part of his tradition as he moaned and groaned every year when the girls would go jump on him to wake him up.) No one was allowed downstairs until we were all ready to go as a family. Now that they’re adults and have a bit more patience, we have changed the time to 8, but the girls are still as excited as they always were to come wake us up.

Our first stop once we get downstairs is in front of the stockings and nativity scene. Before we check out the stockings (that have to have something sticking out of them—it’s tradition!), we get the baby Jesus figurine and sing a song that the kids learned in a church musical many years ago. Called “Happy Birthday, Jesus”, it helps us to be sure that our first focus on Christmas morning is on the birth of our Savior.

Once the stockings have been dumped and all the contents gone through, we move in to the Christmas tree. Opening presents is never a free-for-all event—we take the time to open each present one by one, usually going around the circle or by age.  The response to the presents, as well as the type of presents given, has changed over the years, but each year still bring a sense of wonder, excitement and just plain contentment and thankfulness as we give and receive our gifts from each other.

A few years ago, I started making homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast. I think that’s a tradition that will stick around for a while!

My mom and dad typically come over for a visit later in the day to see everyone’s gifts and to enjoy family time together. When the kids were young, we would not only have our own Christmas time together but we would cram in two other family get-togethers on Christmas day itself. When that tradition changed, I was bothered at first. I liked celebrating Christmas with extended family on Christmas day. Now, I enjoy having a more low-key family day on Christmas and having two other days for celebrating Christmas with each side of the family. Less stress, more days to celebrate and enjoy life with family.

I never thought that we would be one of “those” families who don’t have anything better to do on Christmas than go to see a movie. However, one year when we didn’t have any other plans, we went to a movie with some friends. I was shocked at how packed the theater was! Now, going to a movie on Christmas day is another event that has become a tradition in our family that we all look forward to.

Our son is now married and has his own family to share his Christmas morning traditions. I realize that there will be a time when we probably won’t have any of our children around on Christmas morning. But that will be okay—we’ll know that they’re beginning their own traditions, more than likely similar to what they grew up with. And, as I did with my family, they will add their own flavor to what they do. Tim and I will adjust, continuing some of the same traditions and will easily come up with our own traditions that involve just the two of us. Our traditions will grow and evolve as our family does. But our main tradition will be the same: our focus will be on the birth of Jesus, the true reason for the Christmas season. 

I Am Getting Older: Looking Older

I do not like having wrinkles and gray hair. I was looking at some pictures of me from 4 years ago and the first thing I said was, “Look how brown my hair is!”. Of course, that was with quite a bit of cover-up help from Clairol, or whatever the hair color company was.

Unfortunately, a few years back, I decided that I am anti-chemical. I’m not exactly sure how I got to that point, but I think it began with doing research on coconut oil. I tend to start on one subject, and as I’m searching, I end up finding all sorts of interesting sites. All of a sudden, it seemed that I was reading about the dangers of the chemicals that are in shampoo, lotion, and other everyday items that we all take for granted.

As I’ve said before, I’m not an activist. If you want to find out more information on the dangers of chemicals in personal care products, I’d urge you to research it for yourself. A good place to start is http://www.mercola.com/. Be sure to confirm everything you read, although in this case it’s kind of hard since many conventional sites say that all of the products are fine to use and are actually good for you. Anyway, do the research or just go natural knowing that it’s more than likely better than using chemicals.

At this point, I feel that I need to put in a disclaimer. I am not criticizing anyone for their use of commercial/chemical products. I am telling my own story, not judging how anyone else chooses to live their life. 

I colored my hair for about 15 years. I ended up more reddish than brown for a while. I had a coloring accident that turned my hair black the day before I was going to a big wedding (our daughter, Carla, said that I could put on a leather dress and pretend that I was Pocohantas!). I am quite thankful for a beautician neighbor who was able to gently strip the black color out of my hair, leaving me with the reddish brown color that I’d gotten used to. Our son called me a calico a time or two when the color was growing out—I had the bottle color, my former natural brown color, and a lot of gray hair in the mix.

Yet with all of the coloring hassles, I didn’t want to go gray. I remembered a commercial saying, “I’m not going to age gracefully. I’m going to fight it every step of the way.” But I am who I am. I had a few gray hairs when I was 18, and although I don’t think I was “prematurely gray”, I definitely was heading toward being gray a lot sooner than I thought I should. I decided that I didn’t need to fight aging in a chemical way. I would obviously still be aging, and doing it in a more unhealthy manner by using so many chemicals to try to maintain a younger look.

I do want to age gracefully. I’ve seen some beautiful women, young and old, who have a head full of gray hair. I’ve seen women with obviously colored hair who still look old and act defeated. Whichever I would choose, I’d needed to simply come to the conclusion that I’m beautiful the way that I am and to carry myself with confidence.

And then there are the wrinkles. I will not stay out of the sun and I don’t use chemical sunscreen. The commercials that shows the products that fill in the wrinkles, plump out the skin, and make you look younger are so convincing to me. However, the fear of the chemicals keeps me away from them. I had found a natural lotion that worked well for me until the company went out of business. Now I make my own lotion. It’s not the greatest, but it works well enough. And I have wrinkles because I enjoy the sunshine and I’m almost in my mid-fifties. I laugh, cry, get frustrated, and live life.  And it shows on my face. But that’s okay, since I’m living life to enjoy it.

So, when you see me today, my face is wrinkled enough that you won’t confuse me with a younger woman, and you’ll see me with my natural hair color. ..which, by the way, I’d still say is brown. I know that I am not 20 anymore…or even 30 or 40. I do, at times, feel sad for the loss of my youthful look. But I look back on my life and realize that in the midst of growing older, I have grown in other ways, too.

My next post will be about feeling older. Just because I’m in my fifties, do I have to suffer the aches, pains and illnesses of an older person? I’m finding out that, although it’s not easy, I can take care of myself in a way that makes me feel so much better—and younger, too. Feeling young and healthy is so much better than covering up gray hair and wrinkles with chemicals to give the appearance of being younger. Being fit and healthy makes me be able to pull off the gray hair and wrinkles with more grace knowing that I may look old, but I don’t have to act old.

Throwing Family Away

Although I should have a blog ready to post, I didn’t feel like posting what I’ve written. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and with our upcoming family get together, I was thinking about family gatherings through the years. So many wonderful memories, yet so many missing family members over the years. Some to death, some to location, some because they’ve decided to throw family away.

This will be my first Thanksgiving without having any of our children here to celebrate with us. That they won’t be here comes as no surprise to me because of what their circumstances are at this time in their lives. However, I know that only 2 of 3 of our adult children would choose to spend holidays with our family.

When I think back over our Thanksgiving traditions, I could easily say that we have food traditions. We have most of the basic “turkey and trimmings” feast, along with pumpkin and custard pies, corn casserole, and other desserts and side dishes that have come and gone over the years. We first start our Thanksgiving Day celebration by having breakfast with friends. Although I don’t have an exact number on how many years we’ve been doing that, I’d say it’s approaching 20 years.

Although the food traditions aren’t wrong in any way, and we have come to expect to have certain dishes served, food is just the centerpiece of our celebration. The centerpiece is what’s placed on the table for people to talk over and around. Our Thanksgiving tradition focuses on family. Although we are grateful and we do take the time to thank God for the blessings he’s bestowed on each one of us, family is the reason for the gathering. Current news is shared, eyes are rolled over hearing the same stories yet another time. Much laughter, some tears and heartache. Another Thanksgiving Day spent sharing life; bonds grown another year stronger.

How, then, can a person throw away everything that has to do with their family? I realize that there are broken families in the world where a person doesn’t feel loved or safe in any way. But what about the good families that have been broken because of one person deciding that they don’t want to be a part of that family anymore. I never thought that I would be part of a broken family. Tim and I have been happily married for 32 years and grow closer with each passing year. My parents have been married for 54 years—pretty sure I’m safe there. I never thought that a child would be the cause of our broken family.

How does a person feel when they have years of family traditions and memories? Do they try to incorporate some of those memories into new memories with their new family? Have those memories that mean so much to the rest of us, become like a poison to them so they try to purge them from their minds? Do they remember with fondness the family times we’ve all shared or are their memories tainted so that the very things that bring us together every year with expectation make them feel trapped, inferior, or somehow unloved?

Children don’t have a choice of what family they’re part of in the way that someone becomes part of a family through marriage. The growing-up years are typically full of stories, songs, quotes, traditions, foods, expectations, hurts, love and togetherness that help form who we become as an adult. If, by choice, we throw all of those things away, what does that leave us? Who are we without our past?

Those who choose to throw family away will quite possibly go on to have a wonderful Thanksgiving and will more than likely have much to be thankful for. Do they give any thought to the broken family that they’ve left behind? Do they know that although our table looks full and we still celebrate as a family, we will never be truly complete without them? Do they understand that part of our Thanksgiving Day prayer is for them to choose to come back?

Family is worth the effort. Family is worth working through whatever troubles may come along the way. Family is our heritage, both to receive and to pass on. Although our family is broken, we will continue our family Thanksgiving Day traditions with those who remain. We will connect in some way with those who can’t join us, we will be saddened by those who make the choice to stay away. But above all, we will continue to go to God with thanksgiving, knowing that He hears our prayers and will cover us with peace.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4: 4-7 (italics added)

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Thin

Why is it considered okay to say rude things to skinny people? I don’t tell you that you’d feel a lot better in the heat if you didn’t have so much extra weight. Why can you tell me that I need more fat on me so that I don’t get so cold in the winter time? I don’t criticize you for wearing size 18 clothing, yet I was in a Christian conference and heard a Christian woman speaker say, from the stage, that she hates all of us in our size 2 jeans. Well, I had gone from a size 10-12 and I was so excited, for the first time that morning, to be able to fit into my size 2 jeans! I was truly offended and should have said something to her about it. Maybe I didn’t have quite the weight and eating problem that she had, but it took work and dedication to lose that weight in a healthy manner. People take one look at me and just assume, and say to my face, that I never have to worry about what I eat and that I’m so lucky to be thin.

About 7 years ago, I was becoming living proof of the middle-age spread. I was at my highest, non-pregnancy, weight and I felt frumpy all of the time. I looked in the mirror and definitely had the "Mrs. Doubtfire" belly going on. I didn’t feel good about myself and I realized that it had been a long time since anyone had said how skinny I was. I set out to lose weight.

My plan to lose weight was to cut calories. I know there were days that I was quite light-headed because I wasn’t consuming enough to support my body, but I was willing to pay that price. I was still eating, and a lot of days I just had fruits and vegetables.

I also started to exercise with more intensity. Between using the treadmill and doing a 3-2-1 (cardio-toning-core) workout, I exercised for about an hour each day. For me, that’s pretty extreme!

I didn’t weigh myself at the very beginning of my weight-loss plan, but I lost at least 20 pounds in about 4 months. I even dropped below my goal weight.

I actually weigh less than most height/weight charts say that I should. But I have quite small bone structure, so I do take that into account with my weight.

Gradually, over the next few years, my weight started to go back up. I never did get as heavy as I had been when I was in size 12 jeans, but I was feeling flabby and frumpy again. I was “skinny fat”, not toned and in good shape. And I believed the lie that a calorie is a calorie and ate pretty much whatever I wanted to eat. Scientifically, that’s probably true, but it’s not true in how the calories affected my body.

Two years ago, I wanted to change my eating style and decided to do a 30-day primal/paleo challenge for my health. My weight wasn’t really that bad but I never seemed to be able to lose my belly flab. I could tell that I had abs behind the belly fat, but it was the pooch that was obvious. After doing some research, I decided that maybe this eating and exercise plan would be good for me.

In 30 days of being strict with the program (high fat, high protein, low carb), I ended up losing 5 pounds that I wasn't even trying to lose. The exercise plan was moderate and helped to get me better toned than I had been before. And it was at the end of these 30 days that I was able to get into my size 2 jeans. My previous diet and exercise plan had made me look good on the scale by the weight I’d lost, but this plan made a difference in my body shape and how I felt.

Once I was done with the 30 days, I allowed treats along the way (especially since it was fall and was getting to be holiday time!). But overall, I stayed true to my eating plan and I felt great.  I held on to that basic weight for about a year, until I hit a rough spot in my life due to circumstances beyond my control. 

Unfortunately, the start of the rough spot easily led into holiday eating, which I wasn’t so careful with this time around. I’d eat poorly for a while, would commit to healthy eating, and then would slip up again. My weight finally started to climb and my clothes didn’t fit as well as they had. I didn’t put on much weight, but I felt the flabbiness coming back. I also had cut back on exercising since I had no energy for that type of activity.

After about a year of half-heartedly living a primal lifestyle, with the eating and exercise plan, I’ve committed once again to making a true effort to take care of myself the way that I have found is best for me. I am not happy with how I look or feel when I am not eating and exercising properly. It’s not about how much I weigh, it’s how I feel about myself. I do tend to naturally be on the thinner side, but as my life was showing me, it was easy for me to continue easing up the size chart. I’m not saying that being heavier or wearing larger clothes is a bad thing. If I could be well-toned at a heavier weight, that would be fine with me. But my body naturally goes to the size I am when I eat and exercise well. I am not going to be an extreme weight lifter just to bulk up so I weigh more.

My goal right now is to eat properly at home and to enjoy occasional treats along the way. I had chocolate chip ice cream with pecans and caramel topping the other night. But I had about half of my typical serving size. I try to limit high-carb restaurants, although the $5 footlong specials at Subway and the $10 dinner box at Pizza Hut are 2 of my easiest temptations. And I do give in to them. I just try to be sure there’s a decent amount of time between our visits to those restaurants because I know they’re not good for me to have on a regular basis. I eat a lot of eggs, try to eat fish a couple of times a week, I eat grass-fed beef, and need to include chicken into the menu more often. I eat pork less often, but enjoy it once a month or so. I enjoy eating fruit and need to be more deliberate about eating vegetables. I use butter, olive oil and coconut oil liberally; fat does not make me fat. Sugar and processed foods is what makes me fat. Breads and pasta (which I truly enjoy) are more of a treat instead of a staple like it had been all of my life.

My exercise regimen consists more of strength training using my own body weight. I do use hand weights and a kettle bell, but I also do squats, push ups (not many and not in good form yet), planks, lunges, crunches, and various stretches. I don't work out to the point of exhaustion. I have a certain amount of reps that I do and I stop when I'm done. I can feel that my muscles are getting a good work out, and I will notice a difference in my body shape. But I don't get to the point of feeling like I can't move because I worked my body beyond the point of exhaustion. I honestly don't think that overdoing exercise on a regular basis is healthy for my body. I am not an active person so this type of exercise helps me to look and feel healthier.

We hear so much about bullying. Verbal bullying seems to be at its height in society. I would get so much flack if I said, “I hate you because you’re black” or “I hate you because you’re fat”. Why, then, is it acceptable in society to say, “I hate you because you’re so skinny”? If I am healthy, active, and enjoying life, rejoice with me don’t judge me. Hate is an ugly word however it’s used in reference to people (although I do hate cold weather)—be very careful how you throw it around.

FamilyTravel

This week, I’m actually making my post from Salt Lake City, where we’re visiting our daughter, Carla. We chose to drive from Illinois to Utah, as we did last year, instead of flying out. I, myself, would rather fly. So little time is spent on travel which means more time spent at our destination. But on the other hand, so little time is spent on travel, which means there are so many sights left unseen. We also enjoy the “windshield time”, where we talk, listen to books on cd, and enjoy each other’s company with nowhere else to go. Tim has been itching for a road trip, and since he does almost all of the driving, a road trip it is.

We started to travel when our kids were 3, 5, and 7 years old. Our first destination was Camp Elohim, near Troy, Montana—a little jaunt about 1700 miles one way. Each of the kids had their own activity tub that held a variety of things such as coloring books, markers, small games, and toys of their choosing. It was a good size to fit on their lap as a “desk” or to easily slide under their seats. They started out as good travelers even at their young ages.

That trip was the beginning of our annual family vacations. For a while, it seemed that we’d go west one year and then go east the next year. We realized that, as a homeschooling family, it made sense to occasionally travel in the fall when other kids were in school since there were typically fewer crowds to deal with. We started out camping on vacations, and sometimes just sleeping in the van, but then decided that it was much easier to stop at motels. Camping was good if we were going to be set up for a few days, but to get everything set up and torn down for a quick overnight stop was more trouble than it was worth. And we were quite willing to stay at inexpensive motels. Once again, if we couldn’t find a place to stay within our price range, we’d sleep in the van. Or Carla and I would sleep in the van and the others would sleep on a picnic table or on an available large rock.

Through our family vacations, we managed to hit all of the contiguous states except Louisiana. We had plans to stay there and spend one last day on the beach, but the weather was bad so we headed north in Mississippi. We should have driven on into Louisiana and then gone north just so we could say we’d been there. We did take one last vacation with only the girls, and we ended up visiting Louisiana. By this time, Tim and Laura had already been there on a hurricane disaster relief mission trip. As a family, 4 out of 5 of us ended up going to all 48 states. We also went to, or through, 4 Canadian provinces: British Columbia, Ontario,  Quebec, and New Brunswick.

Travel is a part of who we are as a family. We had one minor car accident, a totally flooded tent, and a stern lecture from me to everyone about how the Grand Canyon might not give you a second chance if you fall. We stayed with our Congressman and his family when we visited Washington, DC. We went to Florida more than once, but never went to Disney World or any of the other theme parks. We stayed in a 3-bedroom apartment right by the beach for only $30 a night thanks to Tim’s time in the Air Force.

We took part in a seal rescue, enjoyed a kite-flying festival on a beach, went whale watching, and camped in a spot so windy that I had to cook in the tent (not recommended!). We had a private tour of a nuclear submarine that was docked for maintenance. We learned that the Omaha Zoo is a great place to spend the day when your transmission is being rebuilt. We hauled a miniature horse in the back of our van from Oregon to Illinois with a week spent in Montana on the way. We’ve enjoyed beaches on the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, the Gulf of Mexico, Lake Michigan, and numerous smaller lakes and rivers.

Although we would sometimes go to a museum or other man-made point of interest, most of our vacation time was spent enjoying nature. Water, trees and rocks seemed to be what drew us to them. Rocks to climb, rocks to collect. Digging holes in the sand, skipping rocks in the water, playing in the waves even if it’s cold enough that the kids’ lips turn blue. Hiking through forests, playing in creeks, enjoying the beauty and sound of waterfalls. Simple pleasures that are enduring memories.

I could fill pages with memories of so many vacations. I plan to focus on a few of those memories in upcoming writings, but I wanted to give a bit of an introduction on how travel became such a big part of our lives. I thoroughly enjoy our home and I am typically a homebody. However, travel is in our blood and there is so much to see and experience beyond the end of our driveway. The whole world is ours to explore.

Passion

Passion

I’ve heard it said that passion is what gets you out of bed in the morning. Well, what gets me out of bed in the morning is that I feel it’s ridiculous to keep lying around in bed when I have stuff to do. Am I passionate about the things that need to be done? No, I’m not. I just know that, even if I don’t accomplish much during the day, at least it will be more than I’d get done by just being in bed.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines passion as a strong feeling of enthusiasm or excitement for something or about doing something. I am not an overly enthusiastic or easily excitable person. That’s just not how I’m wired. But when we’re told to follow our passion, to let God develop our passion, we should be willing to use our passions for God.

Of course, I had, and still have, a passion for my family. The focus of the passion has changed over the years, as I’ve gone from being mommy, teacher, nurse, counselor, referee, and law enforcer to just being Mom. Mom, who is still a counselor, long distance nurse, and most importantly, friend. But a passion for family is pretty much a given—I think it’s inherent in most moms. Even in the midst of this passion I had a strong sense of selfishness. My life wasn’t always about what was best for my husband or our children.

I have had various passions that come and go depending on the season of my life. My kids always cringed when I got on a health-kick passion. That meant natural peanut butter, more vegetables and not very many snack foods in the house. But I’d get tired of the extra effort it took and we’d slowly revert back to our normal way of eating—not overly healthy, but much more convenient. Not truly a passion, but a passing fad. I had a passion for miniature horses when I raised them. But even with that, the passion faded over the years and now I’d say that I’m a person who likes horses; I am not a horse person.

I was somewhat passionate about home schooling, 4-H, various church ministries simply because that’s what I was involved with at the time. Were they passions that I would fight for? Except for being able to educate our kids at home, I’d say that the others were more of a past time than a passion.

I am passionate about reading books. Not books that really educate or enlighten my life, just books that are for my entertainment. We have a houseful of books, many of which I’ve never read. Most of what I read comes from the library, or more recently, is downloaded onto my Kindle. I like books. I am thrilled when I see pictures of a room full of books. Our whole family likes books and enjoys reading them and owning them. Our shelves overfloweth. But what, in the realm of eternity, does that even matter?

I want to have a passion in my life that makes a difference. Not something that I obsess about, but something that truly moves my heart. As I am thinking about this, though, does personality make a difference in how we see passion? As I said, I am not an overly excitable person. Although I laugh, have fun, and enjoy life, I stay pretty much in control of my emotions. I don’t shout out at ball games, I don’t shout out during worship services. That’s just not who I am.

I have seen people who would be described as being passionate about a cause, but all they really do is talk about it. They’ll argue, debate, quote—whatever it might take to underline their passion. But do they ever put their passion into action? Are they trying to find a place, even on the local level or behind the scenes, where they can work to support their cause? Do they take even a small portion of their hard-earned money and donate it to those who are in position to carry out the mission? Are they willing to take their vacation time and pay to go serve in their area of passion?

A passionate worshiper might not be the one with hands raised, singing with the loudest voice (in perfect harmony, of course) or jumping and shouting as the Spirit seems to move. Passion may move more deeply and quietly in some people. Perhaps God is speaking directly to a heart as that person stands there quietly with arms crossed, not singing a word. Are we up in front looking “spiritual” for the benefit for those around us or is our worship personal? Not that we don’t have outward expressions of worship, but who are the expressions for? To make us seem to be more passionate or because we are truly worshipping our Creator God?

I feel that being passionate is a matter of being obedient to God’s calling. If He has called me to support a ministry or a mission, I should learn more about it, pray about it, give financial support as I’m able, and share what I know about it with friends and family. Maybe I can even volunteer in some capacity, especially if the ministry is local.  

I sometimes feel that we get overwhelmed by all of the causes in the world and we feel that we can’t handle the pressure to support them all. That, in my opinion, is the good news: more than likely, we aren’t called to support them all. We can pray for each and every cause that we come across, but there will be those that tug more at our heartstrings. Those that we think about at random times of the day. Those are the causes we should be passionate about, not only with our words but with our actions. Praying for what we’re passionate about can increase our passion all the more as we see God working in and through us.

Through those prayers, our passion can increase. Our passion can make a difference in the world. True passion can make a difference in me.

My Life (So Far) Since 50

I think I get somewhat introspective toward the end of the year. Maybe it’s the cool, gray fall days that make me more reflective. As I read through my post of my life in thirds, I realized that there have been some significant changes in the last four years. Yet so many of the things that I’ve struggled with my whole adult life are still the things that I’ve wrestling with.

We are empty-nesters most of the time. Our son lives nearby with his wife and child. Our youngest daughter lives in Salt Lake City. Our oldest daughter is living in India for a year and has plans to go there again next year after spending a couple of months at home.

I did not ever think that I would suffer the worst year of my life while in my 50s. Somehow, I felt that my “golden life” would continue. I don’t know why I thought I would end up going through life unscathed. Although I won’t go into details at this point, let me just say that there are some pains that seem worse than dealing with a death. I know I haven’t been through a lot of deaths in our family, and I’m not trying to minimize anyone’s pain. But betrayal is a pain that is purposely inflicted and is meant to cut deeply. Especially when it comes from someone who is so deeply loved.

My relationship with God has been truly tested. I think I almost lost my faith in Him; that He is who He says He is, and I can’t pick and choose what to believe. I almost lost my hope, which is a deadly place to be. He cradled me in His arms when the pain first began, but I decided to try it on my own. I wanted to be in “fix it” mode, but the situation was out of my control. I spiraled downward, not telling anyone the pain that I was feeling and that I felt I had truly failed at being a mom. God picked me back up when I finally cried out to him. The path is not always easy, but I now truly know that being in a solid relationship with God is the only place that I want to be. I know He’s real because I felt the emptiness when I turned away from Him.

My focus has ended up being on me during these last few years. However, I am still a mom. I can’t kiss all the hurts away, but my girls still call or text me if they’re not feeling well. I’m still one of the first they’ll contact with good news or sadness.  I do enjoy being a mom. And I enjoy being their friend.

I am not involved in a whole lot of service work. I don’t have the gift of service and it’s hard for me to feel like I fit into certain situations. I am still on the worship team at our church, singing and playing the keyboard. I’m not an accomplished musician by any means, but I am thrilled that I was able to learn how to play chords. I don’t think I would have done it if Steve hadn’t said, “Mom, I really need a keyboard player on my team. Just try it.” So, a book from Amazon on how to play chords…and I was set, at least for playing basic chords!

I want to tap into my creative side more now that I have so much spare time. My true desires are to paint pictures, both realistic and abstract, and to sculpt with clay. I have all of the supplies I need to get started, but I am letting fear stand in my way. Fear of failure or fear of success? Either way, I need to conquer that fear by just stepping out and doing something. I think that even though I am a messy person, I am a perfectionist. Therefore, if I don’t feel that I can do it right, I have a difficult time starting something.

I am still moving forward. Our marriage is probably the best it’s ever been. Not that it’s always perfect, but we know how to work through our difficulties quickly and nearly painlessly. We are both striving for the same goals in life, but we both have issues to overcome. Some days, it feels like we haven’t made much progress at all in over 30 years. But if we truly look at where we are, we can see how we’ve been blessed and that God is still working in and through us.

Through it all, I need to be sure to take a step back and look at the whole picture of my life. Through the struggles, through the pain, I will still continue to say that life is good. Because it truly is.

“My heart will choose to say, Lord, Blessed be your Name”.   (“Blessed Be Your Name”, Matt Redman)

My Life in Thirds: How I've Been Defined

I wrote this just over 4 years ago, shortly before I turned 50. Since the basic idea is still the same, I’ve decided to post this pretty much as it was written. Next week, I will do a follow up on the next 4 years. Life can definitely take a turn from what was expected.  The following is my original post.

August 22, 2009

0--25: Childhood, school, young adult, jobs, college, early years of marriage. Life was good. Became a Christian at age 20. Married at 21. The only life-altering negative thing to happen was the stillbirth of our first son when I was 24.

25--50: Parenthood. From age 25-47, had infants through school-age children. Chose to home school. Leadership in children-related areas: nursery and children’s church, Sunday School, Mom’s Morning Out, Home School Group, 4-H, Youth Group. Worship team vocals. 10 years raising miniature horses, realizing now that it‘s time to downsize; it‘s now more of a chore than an enjoyment. Two adult children still living at home, although they come and go often. Marriage is still strong; enjoying adult relationships with our children.

50--75 (and beyond): Although I haven’t officially reached 50 (5 months to go), I have to look forward to the next 25 years. I want to claim these years as my own. I know that I have grown a lot during my first 50 years, but my focus can be different now. 18 of my first 25 years, I was pretty much under someone else’s control. The next 25 years, my focus was on our children. Having the focus be on me doesn’t mean that I will be a selfish person, but that I won’t need to consider so many others as I make my choices. What do I want to do? That is my problem right now. I have thoughts and ideas, but I think I’m scared to step out and do things.

Throughout my adult life, I’ve struggled with moodiness and slight depression. It was bad enough that it did affect others around me, especially my children. I don’t think that I did irreparable damage, but it still hurts and makes me feel guilty when I remember it. I know that Tim has been affected by it, too, especially early on in our marriage. And when the kids were young, there were times that I was so angry that I just got in the car and drove away. There was something that made me go back, though, because a part of me just wanted to keep driving and lose myself to all who knew me. I am so thankful to have a husband who loves me unconditionally; I know I’ve tested him.

Now that I’m close to 50, I feel a heaviness around me. I don’t really think it’s age-related, but it may be somewhat of an empty-nest thing. I don’t understand that, though, since I do enjoy being by myself and having evenings with just Tim. I think I just feel like I’m on hold and I’m waiting for something to happen. I tend to live for the next big thing to come up and right now, there’s not anything new on the horizon for me.

Right now, I almost feel that my focus needs to be at home. Which is kind of funny to me, since we’ll have a definite empty nest for about three months. But I just feel that maybe I need to get myself in order before I can really take part in any area of ministry. Maybe I can be selfish for a year or so to bring myself back into focus.

Priorities change, callings shift. I think it's good to sit back and take a good look at our lives. How are we doing? Are we focusing on what's really important? Are we stuck in a rut, doing what we've always done just because we've always done it? Have we prayed about what God wants us to do? Change can be hard, but it can be fulfilling, too. We just need to be willing to let God work in and through us, even if it's hard to let go of what's familiar. 

Introduction To My New Blog: The View Beyond 50

Another blog. Why does there have to be yet another blog, written by an everyday person who lives her life pretty much like everyone else does? What can she have to say that hasn’t already been said before in countless different ways that all sound pretty much the same?

I have always been an analytical-type person. I like to figure out why things happen and why people react the way they do. Sometimes, that gets me in trouble because I don’t necessarily know the whole story. Luckily, the person I like to analyze the most is myself. When I was about to turn 50, I felt very unsettled. I was a stay-at-home mom with no kids living at home with me. My purpose for the previous 25 years or so was to be a mom to our three kids. Yes, there were other important things in my life, such as being a wife, but being a mom was my main focus during that time. Yes, I know I’m still a mom and will always be one. But it’s different now.

During this time, I wrote a note called “My Life in Thirds”. That note, slightly revised, will be my first actual blog post (I consider this just an introduction, although technically it is also a blog post). My writings will mostly be about me and what I’ve been through. I am hoping not to come off as being judgmental of others. Just because I chose to do things one way doesn’t in any way mean that others have done things wrong. I know I’ve not always done things the best or the easiest way. But I did things the way I thought was best. Sometimes, though, I knew my way wasn’t best, but it was all I could handle at the time.
This blog will not be a confessional about all the good or bad things that have happened in my life. I will not be sharing a daily journal (if I kept a daily journal!) with all of life's details. When I share something, it will be because I feel that someone will be able to learn from something that's gone on in my life and how I've responded to it. If nothing else, maybe someone will feel that they're not the only one who feels the way I've felt and that they're not alone in their journey. Along with life's lessons, there will be posts on random thoughts that I've had along the way, too. I am not an activist so my posts should stay pretty mellow, yet hopefully still thought provoking.

I invite you to follow along as I share life with you. If you like something I’ve written about, please share my blog on Facebook and invite others to read along. I welcome comments and critiques, but please be kind. Writing will open myself up to being vulnerable. But I am willing to be open to hopefully help others by what I’ve learned along the pathway of growing older. Life really is good.

I hope to post a new blog each week, so I guess I’d better get writing.