Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Me Too, Maurice

     The Me Too in the title does not mean I was sexually assaulted by someone named Maurice. Especially since the Maurice I am referring to is Maurice Chevalier, the French actor. Although, being French, and an actor, I wouldn't put it past him. He has been dead for decades and we did not run in the same circles even when he was alive. What I am me too-ing is his song from the musical "Gigi", I'm Glad I'm Not Young Anymore. True, I miss the looks, muscles and eyesight that growing old has taken from me. But I would miss more the spiritual beauty, strength and perception, that growing old in Christ have given to me.
     I'm glad I'm not young anymore because when I was a young Christian, my prayers were  puny. Morning prayers were often a recitation of my day planner with "Bless" tacked on for good measure. They were equal parts talking to God, worrying, and hoping for the best. I didn't really believe God would respond to my prayers, because when He did answer them, I regarded it as a bizarre coincidence. I would spend hours devising ways God could give me what I wanted and would shoot my ideas up to Him as if God had, or needed, a suggestion box. I trusted God to satisfy my needs, but thought I was on my own for my wants. But the main reason my prayer life was so poor is because my view of God was so small. I approached God like Oliver Twist begging for more gruel. It never occurred to me that God delights to give gifts that delight His children, just as I love doing that for mine.
     I'm glad I'm not young anymore because when I was younger I never really knew if I was in God's will, though I hoped I was. I accepted positions in my church based on my natural abilities and comfort level. I did not realize God supplies the abilities and uses us most when we are uncomfortable. Through those BSF daily application questions that I found so irritating, I learned to apply whatever part of God's word we were studying to what was happening in my life. Being in God's will is simply the Holy Spirit intersecting  my daily Bible study with my daily life.
    I'm glad I'm not young anymore because, until recently, I thought of God as passive and remote.  The most direct intervention of God in our lives began two years ago, through our son's addiction. Stopped on the side of the highway, unsure if our fearful son would make it to Billings for treatment, God commanded a busy Christian headed the other direction, to turn around and talk to us.  He arrived at the very moment I was praying for God to show Tracy that He is real and good. And in the years since that time, the Holy Spirit has continued to speak His thoughts into my mind. I never dreamed a relationship with God could be so real. And I never would have pursued this deeper intimacy if not for the deep waters of Tracy's troubles.
    I'm glad I'm not young anymore because trust is the beauty mark of a Christian, and I learned to trust through decades of experiencing God's faithfulness. The years have also made me more understanding. I understand others' frailty--and my own. I understand God is big, I am small, and so are my problems. I know God hears me, delights to upgrade my requests, and remembers the dreams I have forgotten about. In 46 years as a Christian, even a slow learner like me can pick up a few things. And for the sweetness of the learning to come, I'm glad I'm not young anymore.

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

Leakiwiks

     Here's my theory on why we older women have bladder leaks. Have you ever had muscle testing where they check the strength of your arm and leg muscles before and after changing something? I first experienced this with a chiropractor. She would have me hold my little finger and thumb together, then touch someplace on my body and try to pull them apart. I was skeptical but, try as I might, I could not hold finger and thumb together when she touched a problem area. After her adjustment, I could. Sometimes it is no fun being a skeptic. They did something similar when I bought the expensive insoles I wear now, only they tested larger muscles. I have even seen this technique used with a device that is supposed to filter out radiation from your cell phone. For whatever reason, our bodies cannot multitask, they can't hold everything together at the same time.
     My theory is the bladder sphincter (if there is one) is one of the things it can't hold together. By the time we are in our sixties, a lot of body parts are misaligned or malfunctioning. In my case, my ADD left knee requires a lot of body concentration just to hold it together. Add to that my migraines, arthritis, plantar fasciitis, scoliosis, halitosis, thyroid issues and high blood pressure and you can see why bladder leaks might not be my body's high priority target to hold. If my finger and thumb can't hold together when I can see and focus on them, how can I expect to control my bladder muscles? Kegeling exercises? I've been doing that since my 20's. And I'm not going to take medicinal measures for my two drop dilemma. (Maybe when it gets to the point of drop and give me 20.)
     No matter how many commercials I see showing fun, attractive women wearing some fun, attractive version of Depends, I won't feel desirable in a diaper. If it comes to that. As it is, the smallest package of cheapest pantyliners lasts me for months. But age related muscular degeneration will only make matters worse and I will be like the little Dutch boy trying to hold back the flood with his finger in the . . . never mind.

Monday, September 3, 2018

This Is It

     I bought a car last week. It met my requirements of all wheel drive, under 50k miles & $15,000, has a back up camera and heated seats. But it wasn't exactly what I wanted. It was better. 38k miles, sun roof, all the bells and whistles. God keeps doing that to me--upgrading my answers to prayer from the base model to customize them in ways He knows will thoroughly delight me. The God of the Universe knows me and loves me that well. I hadn't even looked at used Hondas because even the high mileage ones are usually expensive, but I am now the proud owner of a beautiful blue Honda CR-V.
     I am almost as glad about not having to car shop anymore as I am about the car itself. I enjoy car shopping about as much as dental surgery, and they don't give you drugs, even though they are called "dealerships". I had been looking for weeks online, hoping to avoid the ridiculous "Let me talk to my manager" game you have to play with car salesmen. When my son brought home "Crazy Mickey's Auto Finder", I agreed with crazy part, but I did look through it for a Santa Fe or Tucson. There weren't any listed, even in other Montana cities. However, my husband spotted an ad for two Hondas at a salvage place just a few miles south of us. The hail damaged Honda was newer and cheaper, but it looked like Andre the Giant had thrown golf balls at it. If I got it, I figured I could get a license plate that said "HAIL NO" and save the explanations. But I must be more prideful than I am cheap, because I went back in time and parking spaces to the 2013 model.
     The moment I sat in it, I knew--this is it. This was the one God had for me. I appreciate it when God makes his message short and sweet. He did the same thing when we bought our current house. After a year of looking, wondering if I would know it when I saw it, I pulled into this driveway and knew--this is it.
     Another time God made His message longer, but abundantly clear was, about our spare son, Lance. I knew God had brought Lance into our lives as clearly as if He had pried the roof off our house and dropped him into my arms. What I didn't know, was how I would recognize when my role as his spare mom was finished. But September of 2008, after the first week of BSF, God hammered into my heart the message that I had completed my part in Lance's life. He would be alright. God would handle it from here. Although Lance lived with us two more months before he left us for the last time, I already knew my job was finished--this is it. We never heard from him again and it broke my heart at the time, but I had already heard what I needed to--from God.
     Perhaps God gives me such clear signals because He knows I don't pick up subtle ones. I am fairly intelligent, but I am not necessarily perceptive. And I know there will be at least one more time this occurs. One day I will close my eyes on earth, open them in heaven and see for myself--THIS IS IT!

Thursday, August 23, 2018

The Gamechanger

     Our parents are aging and we feel like we are waiting for the game changer. The accident or medical crisis that ends their ability to drive. The injury or diagnosis that requires them to leave their homes. The event that changes everything. Naturally, we would prefer to have all our ducks in a row, places ready for them to move into in Kalispell when the time comes. But I have learned that God is not particularly interested in our ducks, and especially in their row. It doesn't take much faith when life unfolds according to our prearranged plans and on our time table.
     Last Friday my Dad had an outpatient surgery for kidney stones. I came to Missoula to take care of him for the weekend. That plan fell apart when Dad's pain and nausea increased instead of decreased. By the time he was admitted to the hospital early Monday morning, I knew I would not be going home anytime soon. He is now home from the hospital, his kidney function has returned to normal, so this episode will not be the game changer, but we know it is coming. He is healthy, but he is also 91.
    Fortunately, our parents are both realistic and cooperative about the changes that are to come, but it is hard to know when to make them. At what point does the yard work, or house maintenance, or caregiving role become too much? Will they recognize the time when it comes? Will we? The options available depend, like so many things, on the money available. God knows our fears, and our failings, and our future. And since our unchanging God sovereignly controls the changes in our lives, I'm game.
    

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Not Always a Stranger

   Two weeks ago, as we watched the news, a story came on about a Kalispell man who died in a motorcycle accident in Idaho. When the name was given, Tracy shot up in his chair and I gasped. It was a young man we had known since he was born. He was 31, only a few months younger than our youngest son. Jeremy and Tracy grew up together. He was the only childhood friend Tracy was still in touch with. You know, but you're never prepared. It's not always a stranger on the news. The drowning, the accident, even the crime. I have long realized that those reports that last 30 seconds on the news last a lifetime for those left behind. I pray for them. The family members grieving a loss--of a home, a loved one, a reputation.
    Life is tenuous, it can end in the blink of an eye. The Bible compares our lifespan to a vapor. But the Bible also says our days are numbered--in a good way. The God who made us, determined the length of our life before we were ever born. Jeremy died young. He died unexpectedly. But he did not die early.
     I have to admit, I was a little hesitant to watch the news the following day, though the odds of personally knowing someone on the news a second night were infinitesimally small. But a barrier had been breached, the one between what your head knows and what it is prepared for. We know, but we do not believe, that the tragedies we see on the news will not always be about a stranger.

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

B(N)C

     I miss the good old B(N)C days--Before News Channels. Back then at the end of an election a lot of people did not get the president they wanted but they knew that, except for some impeachable offense, there was nothing they could do about it for four years. By the time you were old enough to vote, the concept that you don't always get what you want, had been drilled deeply into your consciousness by your parents, teachers, and pretty much every adult around you. Presidents were just one more thing in that broad unwanted category. So after an election adults just went on about the business of life--work, family, finances, etc. Politics was just one segment of the evening news.
     Fast forward a couple decades and there are probably dozens of cable channels dedicated to nothing but news 24/7. We do not have cable and I am too lazy to research the actual number, but five spring to mind immediately, so dozens seem reasonable. Being a news junkie is actually a thing now. Many people who consider hours spent on video games a complete waste of time, consider the hours they spent learning about video game addiction on a cable news channel worthwhile. They are not wasting time, they are researching things to be upset about. At best, they are well informed worriers. But the main distinguishing characteristic of news junkies is that they are pissed off. Not only are they addicted to news binge inspired anger, but they want you to be angry too. Thanks for sharing.
     What you have to remember about news networks is that:

                              They are not trying to inform you.
                              They are not even trying to bias you.
                              They are trying to attract viewers,
                              so that will attract advertisers,
                              so they will be well paid
                              to say the same things over and over.

     The best way to make people willing to listen even when there is no new news, is to make everything that happens sound urgent. Some things are urgent, the Thai soccer team trapped in a water filled cave was urgent. Rehashing the hows, whys and whethers of Trump's presidency is a moot point because of the when. Whether you love Trump or hate him, the election is over and nothing will change that for two more years. If no news is good news, then 24/7 news would be. . . really bad. Let's act like adults and go back to the business of life the way we did in the good old B(N)C days.

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Unpresidented

     I voted for Trump. I did not want to, because he comes across as an arrogant jerk. I would not have wanted to converse with him at a party, even less at a family reunion. But I liked the things he stood for. Now I am glad I voted for Trump. His term so far has been an unprecedented presidency, so unlike the previous ten presidents of my lifetime. Most presidents spend their entire first term trying not to keep their campaign promises. That appeases the people who did not vote for him into thinking he is not so bad. And it motivates his supporters to elect him to a second term so he can finally fulfill them. Trump governs like a man who is not worried about a second term or a political career. He is a businessman and has, from his first day in office, gotten down to the business of keeping his campaign promises. Naturally, he has been thwarted in this by obstructionist Democrats, who have done everything but throw a tantrum on the Capitol floor, and by amnesiac Republicans, who forgot their campaign promises the instant they were elected.  Trump has governed like a CEO trying to rescue a failing enterprise.
     And we were failing. We were failing to be the land of opportunity, where free education and hard work bring success, because we forced the industrious to provide the same lifestyle for the indolent. We were failing to hold oppressive regimes' feet to the fire because those nations knew our ominous words were not backed with military might. We were failing to protect our own citizens from criminals and terrorists disguised as immigrants because our president refused to secure our borders or even name our enemies. We were becoming more racially divided than in Jim Crow days. And all these failings would have continued had Hillary been elected, except we would have exchanged accusations of racism for accusations of sexism. Jokes about the president, long the staple of late night comedians, are no longer on the hate speech list.
     I see Trump's election as a sign that God has not given up on our country. Not because Trump is a godly man, but because he has chosen to be surrounded and advised by godly men. Frankly, I would rather follow a fool, advised by godly men, than one who would rule with a phone and a pen. (I so badly wanted to post that on Facebook, but I want my testimony there to be about Christ, not politics.) I am no longer afraid North Korea will nuke us in our beds. And if they try, they will only do it once. NATO is beginning to understand America will not continue to subsidize their all expense paid ride. The economy is improving so much that liberals are getting tears of frustration all over their stock portfolios. Our southern border is becoming more like a turnstile and less like a sieve. And I just realized last week that, though I don't understand the complexities of tariffs, I trust Donald Trump to do the right thing. Yes, I like buying inexpensive products, but it might be a nice change to buy something not Made In China. I TRUST DONALD TRUMP. I never thought I would say that about a politician. But then, he is not a politician. He is a business man, and a unique, unprecedented president.