Time To Retire

I have a countdown on my computer. Currently, it says 414 days until I retire. And I remember a time when that number was over double that ... not all that long ago. 

As the weeks and months wind down toward that magical date, I am working hard at keeping my stress in check, because that day also marks for me a day when I can devote more time toward my second career. From the looks of the way things are going right now, that second career may be starting only eight short months after that.  

Free Image by Mabel Amber from Pixabay

And then I might have more say over when I take days off, or how much (or little) I work. I will be able to schedule time for things that - until then - will have been on hold for a very long time. Too long, actually. Horseback riding, golfing, traveling for fun, reading for pleasure, and (best of all) spending time with family and friends will all be possible again. That's the dream, at least. I've missed all of those things, and those who know love me have been very patient with me. VERY. PATIENT. Sometimes I am not sure how they put up with me always looking to dive into my next assignment for school, or with me having to work when their schedule frees up time for them, or with me nodding off when we do occasionally have a visit. What amazing people I have in my life!

It's getting within sight now, this finish line. But it's not really a finish line ... it's more of a starting line where I can walk (or ride, haha) and not run. That will be nice!! 

In the meantime, I need to remind myself frequently that it is time to retire: that is, it is time to schedule regular rest stops on my journey. I have been going at such a break-neck pace, especially since 2013, that burnout is never very far off, and perhaps I need to slow down a bit more. Sometimes, it takes the harsh reality of circumstance to bring me to that place of rest and re-creation.  I hope that I can learn to take the hint sooner rather than later that I need to make time for me and for the things (and people) that/who are important to me. I'm not thirty anymore. Nearly twice that now!!  I need to cut myself some slack!! 

I am so grateful for the ones who know me best and who love me anyway, who take the time to gently suggest that I take the time to look after myself and not run myself ragged. Such friends are hard to come by; I am very blessed to have more than one. 

So - in this time between semesters, I may be looking to reconnect with a few people, and take the time to do things that I like doing. After all, I am the only me that I have. :) 

A Nothing Day

Today is another "snow day" - we might have about three a year where I live (in the Maritimes of Canada). This is the second one in a couple of weeks, timed (conveniently) to land on a weekend and give us a little longer to enjoy time with family and friends.

It's one of those kinds of days I used to call "a nothing day." Nothing gets done, nothing is open, nothing much happens. 

"Fireplace" - a photo by adamr at|
www.FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Yet I need - especially in winter - "a nothing day" once in a while. It's a time to think, dream, reflect. It's an opportunity to spend quality time with spouse, children, friends. The slow-cooker is doing a roast; I'll soon be starting a batch of home-made bread and rolls to combat the inevitable, "oh-I-forgot-to-get-bread" (or whatever you invariably run out of when there's a storm). It's so relaxing for me ... baking ... and I don't get much of a chance to do it anymore.  I find myself looking forward to it - as long as it's a "want-to" rather than a "have-to" thing. Making bread is therapeutic for me. I do it from scratch because there's something about feeling the dough between my fingers and watching it respond to my touch ... that ignites a creative spark in me.

As I was writing this post, I didn't even want to turn on the TV, at least not to watch any shows. So, I turned it on, and muted it, and put it on the "Fireplace Channel." Even if there is no fireplace in our living room, the continual do-loop of video showing a crackling fire does give a rather warm ambiance to the space, an air of peace and civility, and of a refuge in an otherwise cold and harsh atmosphere. At some point during the day, I will probably listen to some André Gagnon - like his Neiges (perfect for a winter's respite, you can even hear the wind howling outside). 

The silence, the absence of hustle and bustle, the ability to do what I want when I want to do it, these all recharge my inner batteries and nourish my inner me. Everyone needs that mental / spiritual break. I was going to say "once in a while" but ... I think it's more "on a regular basis" ...

I guess I'll watch the fire a little longer ... and then go start making some dough.

Lessons Learned and Face Red

It started when the Shift key on my laptop wouldn't work on the left-hand side half the time. It was annoying, but I figured my computer was getting older and it was past the warranty period, so I'd have to find a work-around. I did. 

So it started happening more often. O...kay... Fine, use the workaround all the time. 

Apparently this is a common problem,
spilling coffee on your laptop. I wouldn't recommend it.

Then one day I spilled coffee on the keyboard. 

I tried to clean it up - but - it was too late. About an hour later my beloved MacBook Pro started freaking out. The J key started repeating when I wasn't even touching it - just jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj across any window in which I put my cursor! And my P key stopped working. 

Finally I bit the bullet and decided to go to a local repair shop dedicated to MacIntosh computers. It had been highly recommended. "Can you do the repair here?" I asked. I didn't want it to take forever by sending the machine back to the manufacturer to have it repaired. 

"No problem," came the response. "It's a simple cleaning job. But we have to let it air dry after we clean it, so it will take 3 days." Wellllll... okay, I wanted it done right. So I agreed. They cleaned it, put it back together, turned it on, and it was still not working. "Oh, the casing is warped. It's Unibody construction (one-piece), so we'll have to send away for one. It will cost $400 after all is said and done." 

Hmmmm. Well, it's still way cheaper than a new MacBook. Okay.

Hubby gallantly stepped in and told me I could use his computer (Windows-based) while I was waiting. I was grateful, but it meant that I had to use his machine while sitting in his chair because it was set up a certain way... and his chair was hard on my back. Not to mention - it's Windows. My Mac had spoiled me; I freely admitted it.

So fine... I could spend less time online. We had to take turns anyway, right?

Then Hurricane Sandy put a crimp in delivery schedules for the Unibody, and I had to wait two weeks longer than I would have liked. GrrrUMP. This was really hard to swallow. Days upon days of calling in. Not here yet. Next Tuesday. Friday. No, first of next week.

The casing came in a few days ago, and they put it together and turned it on for a diagnostic. Today. (Keep in mind that I took the computer in there three and a half weeks ago.) This time it wouldn't even stay on for more than a minute. More checking - and then they said that the logic board (also known as the motherboard - the main circuit to which all the other components are attached and communicate with each other) was fried. 

Funny, I thought. All that was wrong when I took it in ... was the J key repeated, the P didn't work and the left Shift key was on the fritz. 

They suggested getting a new machine; the only thing working on the old one was the hard drive. So there'd be the initial repair bill, plus the cost of a new MacBook which - straw breaking the camel's back - they'd have to order in. That would take a week.

I asked if I could have my computer back. Well, it's in pieces, it would take another 2 days to put back together.  Hmm. Finally I said, "I want my hard drive back. Can you manage to at least give me that?" 

After that, I went to the shop where I originally bought the MacBook. I bought a Windows-based computer ... thinking that if a Mac would only last 3 years, I was better off getting a lower-cost computer with top-of-the-line virus protection than getting a new Mac. Even as much as it pained me to resort to Windows again; I'd been spoiled. 

I bought the computer and paid for it and the extended warranty plus a cooling fan to prevent it from heating up too much (my debit card said ouch), and arranged for it to be loaded up with Firefox and Skype, and set up the way I wanted for pickup tomorrow. Then, out of curiosity, (albeit morbid curiosity) I asked them if they still had information on the warranty for the original MacBook - the laptop which was at that moment laying in pieces at the not-to-be-trusted repair shop across town. 

They looked it up for me - they found it in their records.  There was a year left on my extended warranty.

Oh crap. Crap, Crap, and more Crap. Wa-ay too late now - but I wish I'd known that a month ago!! 

I should have taken it to them in the first place. 

I am SO embarrassed. 

There's no way out but to admit it. Einstein was right when he said that only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and he wasn't too sure about the former.

I screwed up. Big time.

Lessons learned from all this: 

(1)   Never assume the "warranty has run out by now." CHECK.
(2)   Know when your warranty runs out, and get your machine repaired where you got it, just in case. Keep warranty and repair records in a place that is separate from your computer's hard drive - because if your computer stops working, you'll want to be able to get at the information.(3)   Never, NEVER leave anything liquid on the same surface where you keep your computer. If you have to eat soup, or drink coffee or cola or whatever when you are at your computer, make sure that:

• you set the liquid container down on a separate surface than the one on which you keep your computer, 
• you don't hover the liquid above the keyboard (i.e., turn your head to one side to drink, or push away from the computer to eat your soup!), and 
• that the surface you set your drink/liquid on is solid and doesn't allow for spillage and inadvertent dripping on the machine. 

Life lessons learned: 

(1)  No matter how bad you think things are, they can always get worse.
(2)  Life does go on - and it gets more expensive. Live with it.
(3)  Don't take yourself or your possessions too seriously. 
(4)  Sometimes you just have to cut your losses, face the music and take your lumps. Life hands you innumerable opportunities to make a royal chump of yourself. Learn to roll with the punches ... and know that it's okay to be human.

People can relate to it, for one thing.

Me Time

It's been a long time since I've done some of the things I love to do.  Partly that's because I'm no longer in any physical shape to do them - but of the things I CAN still do, I still don't do the majority.  

Why is it that I find it so difficult to make some "me time"??  I think it's because there's still this hanger-on belief from my childhood that I'm not worth anything and so what I want is immaterial.  When I was a young parent, this fit in perfectly with all the self-sacrifice needed to meet the needs of small children.  After a while, though, as they were better able to look after themselves, the children's welfare became more an excuse than a reason.
 
So it begs the question: what now?

I could spend my time bemoaning what I can no longer do because of age, weight, schedules, work, and outside commitments.  And it would be true.  But it wouldn't solve the problem, which is that I need to allow myself to carve out some dedicated time for me.  Starting with what I can do right now.

Setting aside time to read a book, to play an instrument and / or sing, or even go for a walk (if not outside, at the very least in a mall or up and down the stairs at home a couple of times) is something I can do on a regular basis in order to tell my psyche that I am worth spending time with and for.  It fills my emotional tank and lets me give to others out of a place of fulness. 

And more than that, starting where I am, being faithful to myself in the little things, perhaps it won't be long before I will be able to do the things I can't yet accomplish - - because at this moment in time I'm too heavy, out of shape, old, or what have you.

I don't need to give up on those dreams.  

They might have to wait for a while.  Okay, I can live with that.  But in order to achieve even some of them, I need to remind myself to keep doing what I can do to take care of me.  I have to say to myself, "I'm important.  What I want to do - what I like to do - is worth doing."

I can trust my loved ones to do the same, to look after themselves.  I can ask them for the time I need to care for my own needs and pursue my aspirations.  Finding the courage to do that will be not be easy; however, I've already prayed for "... courage to change the things I can..." and all I will need to do is take stock of my daily life, step out of my non-essential routines and into something that is healthy for me to do. 

Deep breath.  Let's give this a whirl.

Fun-sucker

In an argument between mother and daughter in the movie "Freaky Friday" (which I highly recommend by the way) the daughter accuses her highly organized,  highly professional (psychologist) mother of being a "fun-sucker" - and when her mother incredulously repeats the word, her daughter says, "Yeah! you suck the fun out of everything!"

I can relate.  I can relate to both.  My parents were homebodies and my mother was what my daughter calls a "Christianazi" - religifying (rationalizing with a religious reason) her decisions not to allow me to do this or that thing.  I remember resenting that.  Yet I ended up doing the same things with my children. 

The truth is that I (and I expect she before me) did not know how to have fun, was not allowed to have fun, and was taught that amusing oneself - or even having free time - was somehow "wrong" or "sinful."  As a result I spent much of my growing-up years feeling like I was alone even though there were people all around me.

I didn't know how to make friends.  As a result, I didn't have any.  

Those who paid attention to me did so to make me the brunt of a cruel joke they could brag about to their friends later on, and they loved it when their actions made me cry - which I invariably did - and then they would point and laugh at me.  (This is a major reason why I absolutely DETEST practical jokes.)  I had a well-developed case of demophobia - fear of crowds.  If in a crowd I had to be apart - and/or close to an exit so that I could beat a hasty retreat in case the cold fingers of panic squeezed my throat and made it impossible to breathe normally.  

So when I started to recover from the hurts of the past, discover the roots of those hurts and deal with my feelings which were "stuck" inside that little girl, and then start to parent her and grow up inside, one of the things that I had to learn how to do was to lighten up and have a little fun.  

You know, it was (and is) really hard to get out of old habits and try new things.  I had to become willing to work on this; and yes, I had to pray for the willingness and to examine my reasons for not wanting to go there in the first place.  My reasons had a lot to do with my own opinion of myself.  So the first step in the process was admitting to myself that I was worth taking time for.  A lot of my reticence to participate in things was the belief that was drilled into me every day of my life until I was 20 and left my birth family (a belief I carried with me until I was well into my 40s) - that I was not good enough the way I was, that nobody would want to spend time with me, that all I was good for was this or that, and nothing else, and why would I even want to be liked - it was so vain of me!  

The antidote to those lies was truth.  That I was good enough.  That people could like me for who I was.  That I had something to contribute.  That I didn't have to change to be what someone else wanted me to be. That I didn't have to fix people's problems for them.  That I could feel what I felt and not have to apologize for having those feelings.  As I spoke truth into the heart of that little girl and she started (over time) to respond and peek out from behind the closet door... I was given opportunities to start to have fun.  I learned what was fun for me and what wasn't.  

And slowly - ever so slowly - my world started to expand.  My circle of friends started to get bigger; at one point I only had a very select few.  There are more now.  I even went to an office "offsite" summer gathering recently that happens every year - I've worked at this particular job since March 2008, so I have had four opportunities to go, and this was the first time I even showed up (before, I would stay at the office and work while the others were out having fun.)  I went; I stayed for the catered meal, participated in one activity before and during the meal - and when my skin started to crawl after the meal was done and people were milling about (the demophobia kicking in - it's a bit better than it was a couple of years ago), I left.  It was a little victory for me.

I'm far from being the life of the party.  But as I have healed inside, I find that I can connect with people better, and socialize for short periods of time without pushing the red button - the one where I am convinced that I am in danger, and I panic, feel suffocated, and have to get out.  I can see it coming and extricate myself graciously now, before becoming overwhelmed.

And I can actually enjoy some of the things I thought i would never enjoy - ever. Bantering with people.  Visiting with someone.  Mingling with folks in the foyer of the church (for short periods only at this point).  Going to a BBQ or a church picnic.  Before, these things were activities to be avoided, endured at best.  Now I can actually enjoy even the simple pleasure of running into a friend at a department store and chatting for a few minutes, making plans to spend more time together later, that kind of thing.

When I think about how things used to be, how isolated I was, how lonely I was sitting around "being right" - it boggles my mind that God has brought me this far ... that I can actually look on my facebook wall and see that I have over 100 friends, that I can walk into a store without dreading it, that I can laugh and mean it, that I can set boundaries without feeling guilty, that people brighten up when they see me coming toward them (wow, what a trip!), and that I am - more often than not - happy. 

It's a miracle. Plain and simple.

Blee-doop

Once in a while I hear a little chirp every so often, coming from another room.  Blee-doop.  Five minutes later, blee-doop.

Graphic "Low Battery" courtesy of
David Castillo at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

My cell phone is asking me to feed it.  I try not to let it get that hungry but sometimes I forget...and it tells me what it needs.  If I ignore it, the battery loses its charge altogether and the sound stops.  That isn't a good thing especially if the phone isn't where I usually keep it! But all I need to do is plug the charger in for a few hours and it soaks up energy like a little sponge, making the phone usable again.


I guess I get like that too.  Battery low.  

I get used too much, take on too much - or go too long without doing things that replenish my energy - and I start blee-dooping at people.  Any people but especially those who are closest to me.  Usually in a very annoying fashion.  This means I get all selfish, self-centred, and nasty with people...unthinking, uncaring.  It happens.  When I catch myself doing it (or occasionally, when a good friend calls me on it) it's never a pleasant experience - but it does alert me to the fact that I have been putting myself out too much and not taking anything in to recharge my batteries.

And occasionally, like today, my batteries get recharged without me having to make the time to do it.  People's sleep schedules were such that I was able to spend some quality time with my hubby before anyone else got up.  We got some shopping done before the stores got crowded.  It was nice - it was leisurely.  And when we did run some errands with one of our crew, it was short and we could spend some more time just relaxing for what seems like the first time in weeks. 

Nobody is like the Energizer Bunny.  We all need recharging.  Some more often than others, perhaps.

Different things drain me:

• I spend time with more than 4 people at a time or even one other person when I feel like I must be on my guard.
• I feel pressured into doing something I don't want to do, and judged when I say no.  Or ... I give in and say yes, and then resent every minute as well as the person who guilted me into it.
• I shop when the department or grocery stores are busy.  (Bad move...my skin starts to crawl and my fuse gets shorter...)



Photo "Blurred People Walking On The Street"
by surasakiStock at www.freedigitalphotos.net

• Or I am around people who are fighting with each other - voices raised, doors slammed, etc.

Blee-doop.

• I go to a gathering - whether church, a team meeting, or whatever - where I feel like nothing is being accomplished and I'm just going through the motions.
• I go without nourishing my spirit (listening to music, reading and meditating on Scripture and my recovery readings).
• Or I let people walk all over me - and don't stand up for what I want, and resentment builds up in me.

Blee-doop.

It doesn't take very long to recharge, just the decision to allow recharging to happen and making time for it if need be.  Thank God for earphones, Youtube, and unexpected quiet moments throughout the day.  Thank God for the beauty of nature.  Thank God for the ability to go for a walk if I need to do that.  Such things feed my soul.  That's what today has been like so far.

And if it changes - I can always go for a walk later - or go visit with some friends in a place where I feel safe and at home.  

That sounds like a plan.

Looking out for #1

Who's got time to look after the one in the mirror when there are so many other urgent priorities clamoring for attention?

But it's important to look after ourselves. A simple matter like tooth-brushing was a luxury that for years I felt I couldn't take the time to do when someone else needed or wanted my attention. 

Until about a year ago.  I'd been on my journey for a few months and I had gotten to the stage where I was making restitution to people for the harm I had caused them.  I thought I was finished with this when God tapped me on the shoulder of my spirit and said, "Uh, you forgot someone."  Yes, He meant me.  I had (by neglecting my own needs) been hurting myself.  It was time to treat myself differently.  I came up with a whole raft of other ways in which I was mistreating myself.  It was time to correct that - to make amends to myself.

And you know, when I started treating myself with respect, I found I had more to give to others.  It's weird but it works that way (as I have said before, the Golden Rule talks about loving one's neighbor AS oneself, not better than oneself.)

Over the last few weeks I have been paying more attention to my own health.  Since about a year or so ago, I have been paying more attention to taking in vitamins and minerals that my body needs.  

I've been trying to recover from putting my back out about 2 weeks ago - the recovery has been quite slow but it's starting to turn a corner.  

And since it's getting close to Resurrection weekend and our church is putting on a passion play, I am doing my level best to be AT my best for it.  I'm taking part in the play and I don't want to let the cast down.  My part is a solo, which I am really looking forward to doing.  

By the way, if anyone wants to attend the play (called "By His Stripes") it's at Calvary Church at 7:30 Friday night, and again on Sunday morning at 10:30.

Anyway, I digress.  The last week or so I have been really ramping up my self-care regimen to include foods rich in vitamin C and - to reduce the soreness in my throat - slightly more salty, without loading up on calories.  And I have also been taking a C supplement.  I've bowed out of some of my evening commitments so that I can avoid worsening my symptoms.  The result of this plus copious amounts of prayer from myself and others on my behalf - has been a slow but steady recovery.  Today I was even able to sing for a few minutes with my daughter on the way home from work!

Self-care is a healthy thing.  Physically AND mentally.  

Adequate sleep, good nutrition and hygiene, and taking time out for things that we like to do, all contribute to a healthy mind in a healthy body.  Our families and friends can better count on us when we are living a balanced life.

If we are constantly pouring out our lives for people without taking time to replenish our energies, we will hit burnout and resent the very people we have been trying so hard to help.  I know because it's happened to me before, and to so many others.  Having enough strength to share with others can only come from a place of plenty.  That can only come from enjoying our lives, really living.

We must have in order to share.

Morning Coffee

When I first met my husband, I wasn't a coffee-drinker.  I drank tea.  I had tried coffee once or twice - thought it was - well - vile.

But he was a coffee drinker.  Loved his morning coffee - would drink it cold from last night's pot, or even from the pot that was brewed two days ago.  

But I loved to linger over breakfast with him, sipping a hot cup of something.  So, I decided to give coffee another go.  I told him about my previous experiences and he (since he knew how the coffeemaker worked and I didn't) decided to start me off easy - with coffee made only about half the strength he took it.  Besides, he must have reasoned - it meant he could have twice as much.

I put milk and sugar in it - we didn't buy cream back then.  And I found it bearable.  I enjoyed the company for sure - and over time I learned to look forward to it, to learn little tricks to take the bitter taste away.  After all, I grew up liking coffee ice cream.  So a few grains of salt in the batch took the bitter taste from it and before long I could even say I liked it.

Then all he did was slowly, carefully, turn up the volume. He started making it stronger.

Today, I can't imagine starting my morning without a cup of coffee, sometimes two. (And yes, I did learn how to use the coffee maker!)  It's still something that he and I linger over, and often I am known to say "Oh, that's so good!" when I take my first sip of the morning.


But I enjoy it when he's not with me too.  This morning I got up early (not by choice) and when it became clear that I wasn't going to get back to sleep, I got up and made a pot of coffee.  I sat with a cup and soaked in and enjoyed the company of Someone else who never sleeps...nor does He ever get tired.  That's one of the "perks" of waking up early: more conscious time with Him.

I built a relationship with coffee, with my husband, and with God the exact same way.  I went at my own pace, spent more and more time with them, and learned to love them.  

Lately the relationships with my husband and with God have both been deepening.  As God has brought me through the process of the last 2 years, I find I want to spend more time with Him, not less, and that I enjoy being with my husband - and with myself - much more than I could have thought possible.

It's addictive really.  A good kind of addiction - because the human spirit is an addictive entity and was designed to only find complete fulfillment in one place: intimate relationship with God.  Lesser addictions - especially when given first place - harm the spirit, whether they be to substances, to things, people, power, money, sports, culture, or whatever. People can even be addicted to church and to church events!! 

But this - this sense of peace and lightness inside - this is priceless.

I think I'll go back for another cup this morning. 

Slow Down

The din is everywhere.  We're surrounded by noise: honking horns, radios blaring, music broken by announcements in department stores, television.  We seem obsessed with filling the silence with sound of some sort.

Perhaps it's to drown out the clamor of our own thoughts.  Alone, we might face our inner emptiness - isolation - loneliness.  Or worse yet, think about important things like life, mortality, immortality.

Or it could be to distract us from the cruel irony of our own tyrannical self-imposed schedules and demands.  I mean, does it REALLY matter if the dishes get done before 7 pm or if a tea towel is not hung up nicely on the rack? Or if we do three hours of voluntary overtime or just one?  Come on! 

I grew up feeling guilty when I was idle.  Gotta fill that time with activity.  Gotta be productive, gotta have something to show for having lived another hour.  I've seen the stress people in my life have put themselves through - the ulcers for which some have been on medication for years - with this kind of attitude.  And I have to question: is it really worth it?

Sometimes I wonder if we might be better served by carving out some time in our busy schedules to slow down and relax.  To listen.  To spend quality time with the people who matter most to us.  To turn off the radio or the TV, to unplug from this wired world and just enjoy the moment.  No plans.  No agendas.  No expectations.

When I find my stomach in knots, when I'm clenching my teeth in my sleep, I know that my life is more about being a "human doing" rather than a "human being".  

That's when I need to take time away from the tumult and pace of my frenzied surroundings, the demands of the daily mundane but self-important tasks that insist on having my attention - and focus instead on God.  On my relationship with Him.  On His relationship with me. On my relationship with myself (often most forgotten in the hubbub.) I need to connect with the people closest to me.  To concentrate on those people and things which will outlast the hurry and scurry of this hamster-wheel of modern life.  In doing so I will regain that lost sense of peace I didn't even know was missing - until I went looking for it. 

Talking and Listening - and Dancing

Much has been said about the topic of prayer.  Books have been written, entire doctrines have been postulated about the proper posture, format, attitude, and even the words used when  praying.

When you boil it right down, all prayer is, is a conversation between two people when one of them just happens to be God.


Yes, He is omnipotent.  Yes, He is holy.  Yes, He is the creator of the universe and the judge of our motives.  Of course!  But He's also a person.  He created us to be persons so that we could communicate with Him.  He desires to communicate with us.  So when we pray, we tell Him what is on our minds, thank Him for listening ... and then (something we may miss) we listen to what He has to say.  The better we become at listening, the longer the interaction lasts; it spills out into the day as He goes with us.  The prayer becomes a constant conversation.  Hearing His voice gets easier to do.  We get to know what His will is, and we do it out of gratitude to Him.  The more we let God do His will through us, relying on His strength alone, the fewer mistakes we'll make, and the more confident we become that He is listening and will do what is best: in us, through us, and for us as well as for those other people (whoever they are) for whom we pray.

It's like learning to dance.  You don't get it perfect the first time.  One person leads, the other follows his lead.  

I was talking to my mother yesterday and she reminded me of one of the activities that she and Dad used to do together - they used to go to barn dances.  There was a fiddler and a square-dance caller and everything!  They took me along once; I would have been about 12 years old, I guess.  It's one of my better memories growing up.  I even got to dance!!

At a certain portion of every barn dance, the group dancing (square-dancing) was over with and the waltzing would start.

Dad would ask Mom to dance with him.  And it was awkward for both of them.  She didn't know the steps; he didn't have the patience to teach her without getting annoyed.  She felt stupid and he felt frustrated.  Eventually he just took her to dances but danced with other people while she watched ... and then he just went and sat the waltzing part out. After a while they stopped going altogether.  She told me, "I didn't mind going to the dances at all, and I wasn't jealous of him dancing with those other women.  I just wished he would have told me what he wanted." 

I grinned at her.  "You know what the problem was don't you Mom?"  She shook her head.  I continued, more of a statement than a question.  "You tried to lead .... didn't you."  She kind of looked sheepish and I knew that was it.  Letting him lead was how she could have learned how to dance.  

One learns by doing - in dancing - in prayer - in life.  

Dad was a novice dancer and he didn't know what was wrong; he just knew that whenever he went one way, she went another. They ended stepping on each others' toes. And after a while that can be very discouraging.  Letting someone lead implies you trust  the person to never lead you astray.  Mom and I didn't go there in our conversation. She continued on to talk about other things.  But it got me to thinking.

I heard guidance described in this way before - it's a dance. The GUI at the first stands for God, U and I.  So God, you and I dance.  It is a great analogy for prayer as a life-conversation.  In connection with Him, close enough for conversation and taking cues and leading from Him.  (Of course when WE try to lead we get frustrated and end up looking and feeling foolish...)  But as we let go of our need to control every situation and let God do it - we get better at it.  

And God can take us places in Him we never thought we'd go.  All we need to do is accept His invitation ... and let Him lead.

Retired?

The old joke goes, "I'm retired.  I'm tired today and I'll be tired again tomorrow."

The hope that most people have of retirement is more time to do the things that we enjoy doing, like recreation, travel, more time spent with family and friends, resting in a hammock, taking naps.

It's all an illusion.  That only happens to the ones born with silver spoons in their mouths, who have servants and six-figure retirement incomes.

The "lazy" stereotype is bunk too.  

I have spent the last two weeks trying to keep up with my husband, who's been retired since October 2009.

I'm tired!  The guy rarely has three hours at a stretch to himself, is driving this kid here and that kid there, doing errands in town, housework at home (yes, God has blessed me richly!), and miscellaneous tasks like looking after the maintenance of the house, shoveling snow, scraping windshields, scheduling appointments... in short, it sounds just like everything that a young stay-at-home mother does.  But he's not a young stay-at-home mother; he's a 58-year-old man with high blood pressure, arthritis in one knee and the foot on the same side, lumbar disc disease, and half the income he used to have.  He doesn't have money so we can go golfing together, which we love to do when we get the chance.  There's no money left over after the bills are paid to go on vacations to tropical climates. 

Yet he's happy (if a little harried) at the end of a day.  He might not think he accomplishes much in the run of a day but ... it's pretty difficult to match his activity level, which has easily tripled since he retired!  And truth be told, part of me is looking forward to getting back to work so I can get some rest from just trying to keep pace with him!

Here's a toast to you, my love; I raise my coffee mug to you.  I'm so very glad to have you back again: the real you!

I've watched you closely for nearly the last two years in your recovery from your addiction, and have seen you blossom into the honest, loving, sensitive, generous man I fell in love with all those years ago.  

I've seen you connect with our kids and give them a safe place to land, unselfishly giving of your time and your resources to give them the best possible foundation on which to build their lives.  They love you to bits, you know.

I've watched in joy as you have developed and maintained relationships, budding friendships with more people than you ever thought possible.  Life is full for both of us - and given the choice between the life of luxury most people hope for when they think of retirement, and just spending time with you...

I'd choose you any day.