MATURE THEME

Happy birthday to me next Tuesday!  Old age isn't so bad when you consider the alternative.  And some days the alternative sounds good too!

Life isn't tied with a bow but it's still a gift. 

~ ~ ~ 

Any day above ground is a good day.

Celebrate is a good word for birthdays at any age.    Attitude is the key.  There are perks for being old. . .MATURE!

• There's nothing left to learn the hard way.
• Your eyes won't get much worse.  (Lasik is wonderful!)
• Your investment in health insurance is finally beginning to pay off!
• Kidnappers are not very interested in you.
• In a hostage situation, you are likely to be released first.
• You have a party and the neighbors don't even realize it.
• No one expects you to run into a burning building.
• You can join AARP.
• People call at 9 PM and ask, "Did I wake you?"
• Folks no longer view you as a hypochondriac.
• Things you buy now won't wear out.
• You enjoy hearing about other people's operations.
• You can eat dinner at 4 PM.
• You've reached the age where happy hour is a nap.
• You get into heated arguments about pension plans.
• You no longer think of speed limits as a challenge.
• You sing along with the sleepy elevator music.
• Your joints are more accurate meteorologists than the national weather service.
• Your supply of brain cells is finally down to manageable size.
• Your secrets are safe with your friends because they can't remember them either.
• You quit trying to hold your stomach in, no matter who enters the room.

If you're wondering my age, I'll let Doug fill you in on that but you'll need to do a little math after this next section.  Two years ago in a blog I wrote the following:

“Old age isn’t for sissies.” I’ll add that a good sense of humor also helps as we age.

Doug’s always been complimentary and thoughtful. He gave me three, count them…THREE surprise parties for my 60th birthday a couple of years ago. I think he was most proud of pulling off the surprise element, not that easy to do with me. But come on! Who’d expect more than one party birthday week? He’s good.

The next Sunday at church service he introduced a new praise song, “This is Your House.” We both wear head mikes. Mine was live since I sing and play from the piano. As I played the introduction he gave an impromptu mini-message:

“This is God’s house and we sing to Him, an audience of One. Just like last week my wife returned to our house to find the faces of many old friends and family there to surprise her, to honor her. She was home but also the guest at her 60th birthday party…”

“I can’t believe you just told the whole church how old I am!” Did I just say that out loud?  Through the house speaker and monitors? His head spun my way, wide–eyed. Yep. I must have said it out loud, forgetting my mike was on.

Men cringed. Women gasped. Pastor Mike laughed! Doug blinked rapidly, stared at the congregation and asked if anyone would let him go home with them today. I really didn’t mind telling my age. How could I after three parties? Still…men don’t announce their wives’ age publicly. Glad he doesn’t know my weight."

~ ~ ~  

We still laugh at that one and he gets ribbed about it.

Figure out how old I am yet?  If so, leave it in Comments but don't tell!  Let's just keep it between us.

Aging gratefully,

Kathy

I Second that EMOTION

Am I alone in emotional  struggles in life?  Is it right to feel distressed, troubled, sorrowful?  "If you had faith, you wouldn't feel that way," internal voices taunt.


REALLY?


Recently those very emotions robbed me of sleep and appetite. Now that last one is some big theft!   Those raw, pressure-cooker emotions drive some people to various attempts to calm the brute within.  Pills, booze, distractions, compulsive shopping, addictions and pleasure can all be vain attempts to stop the emotions.  Instead, they often amplify pain.

Two questions bubbled to the surface of my inner toil and boil:
1. Did Jesus have these feelings?
2. How do I handle them?


Question #1 was answered in 3 Bible passages:

• Mark 14:33-34 "He took Peter, James and John along with him and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled.  My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death."
• John 12:27 "My heart is troubled , and what shall I say?  Father, save me from this hour."
• John 13:21 "Jesus was troubled in spirit. . .one of you is going to betray me."

Whew!  Now that's how you spell RELIEF to the Is it wrong question.  Jesus felt just like me!  So I cancelled my guilt trip and moved on to the second item on my list.  What to do with these emotions. . .what did Jesus do?


The same verses held clues.  I noticed He was troubled because of circumstances and people disappointing Him.  At the fork in His Gethsemane Road he was even torn in praying two conflicting ways.


That great theologian Yogi Berra, understood this too:





"When you come to a fork in the road, take it."




Take it to God in prayer.  All of it!

A third reading of the verses gave me holy footprints out of the emotional mire mucking me down.  His reactions were to

• pray
• wait
• listen

True confession here:  I often pray after I worry, tend to run ahead on emotional fuel spewing out of me, and often learn to listen after opening my big mouth.  I love Peter.  Fortunately that's what grace is all about.  The Messiah makes my messes into a message about Himself!  


His formula works! As I prayed, the stresses loosened their stranglehold on me. Relief came gradually as I kept taking the burden to Him.  Not reclaiming it myself meant repeated trips to the prayer closet to lay it and leave it with Him!  


Jesus' example of waiting led to listening.  Both skills are hard for me, unnatural. Only the SUPERnatural power of the Holy Spirit shuts my mouth and opens my ears.  Jesus listened to both the Father and His friends.  I have those same two resources.  So do you!  And my friends STAYED awake, plugged in to pray with me and hold my arms up in battle.  Even Jesus' disciples had not matured to that point during His midnight Gethsemane hour.  A good reason to have prayer warriors on your team!


Are you 

• troubled
• stressed
• overwhelmed?

So was Jesus.  For you, He modeled

• praying
• waiting 
• listening!

There is a balm in Gilead.  Apply to emotional wounds and find relief.

I sure am glad Jesus prayed over the fork He faced.  If He'd acted on emotions to avoid the cross, I'd be doomed.  He prayed, waited, listened then obeyed His Father.  


He died. . .so that I could live.





While we're on the subject of life and death, Yogi again expounds:
"You should always go to other people's funerals; otherwise, they won't come to yours."


Terminally or Eternally Yours,
Kathy

AN OPEN LETTER TO MY HUSBAND

Doug and I celebrate our 42nd anniversary this week. This is my public praise to him for putting up with me and my thanks for the cherished memories.

THANKS FOR:

• Teaching me to sleep through dual snoring and grinding of teeth.
• Demonstrating newborns will not slide down the drain during bath time.
• Explaining that it was not a branch I saw coming from that horse's belly.
• Interpreting farm terms during sermons (like "stepping in high cotton" or "the back 40".)
• Laughing at my jokes no matter how many times you hear them.  (The kids could learn from you!)
• Explaining what those green leaves with bugs were from a member of our first church.  Now I LOVE collards!
• Helping me down the stage steps every Sunday so I don't fall. . .again!

http://kathyhenderson.blogspot.com/2009/10/graceful-grace-my-big-brother-bert-bb.html

• Telling me no when I ask if the dress makes me look fat.
• Telling me yes when I ask if the dress makes me look fat.
• Putting the toilet seat down.
• Smiling at me from stage at church, despite Mr. Forlines' advice on PDA.
• Not killing me for my honed skills at backseat driving.
• Making the most beautiful children in the world.
• Making the most beautiful children in the world fun.
• Calling me just to sing, "Have I told you lately that I love you."
• SHMILY serendipity gifts.  (See How Much I Love You)

• Always remembering my birthday and our anniversary.
• Working so hard to make our yard a gorgeous respite.

• Not hugging me after 18 holes of golf.
• Hugging me after you shower.
• Saying I look beautiful when all I see is wrinkles and cellulite.

http://kathyhenderson.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-dont-think-youre-ugly-old-age-isnt.html

• Loving your in-laws as much as I do.
• Foot rubs that put me to sleep.
• Believing in miracles and living them together. . .we're still standing!  And standing together!

Here are a few photos of us through the years.

 And today, after all these years:

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! (I Dropped My Newborn Baby!)

Mother's Day is Sunday.  My earliest memories include my dream to grow up and become a mommy.  While the first part is debatable, there's no doubt about fulfilling my motherhood fantasies threefold, in Kimberly, Kent and Katy.

Bringing a life into this world is an overwhelming mix of ecstasy and terror.  I actually recall the waterfall of thoughts on November 7, 1971, as the delivery nurse announced, "It's a girl!"  THIS was my first Mother's Day.


Thank You, Lord!  Oh, how am I going to take care of her?  This soul is now forever.  You're in the middle of a miracle.  Can I do this, Lord?  How thrilling to finally be a mother! 


My emotions whirled as they handed Kimberly to me for the first moments of her life.  She came so quickly without anesthesia so her eyes were huge and alert.  Her round head nestled into my arm like two long-lost puzzle pieces.  We fit.

However, a few weeks later I questioned my own fitness to be a mother.  Doug and I went to Vernon Park Mall in Kinston, NC, to do some Christmas shopping and let Kimberly visit Santa for the first time.  Obviously the outing was for us, rather than her.  

After Santa posed with our newborn I said, "Doug, I'm running into Dupree's Children's Store to get the baby a sweater."


"Fine.  I'll meet you back here in 15 minutes."


Leaning over the shopping cart handle into her little infant seat, I kissed Kimberly for the umpteenth time.  My hand still on the cart, I looked to my right at the counter of baby clothes.  In my peripheral vision I suddenly caught a  glimpse of my precious baby falling head first for the terrazzo floor.  I screamed an unnatural, guttural sound as I grabbed and snatched her from the floor to my sobbing chest.  I felt my legs turn to water as a clerk rushed to us.  I collapsed to the floor.


The next minutes were some of the most horrific of my life.  I told the store employees my husband's name, tried to describe what he was wearing. Someone went to page or find him.  Someone else lifted me into a chair and took my daughter from my trembling arms.  I saw the scuff mark on Kimberly's perfectly round head as she cried.  We cried.  Time stopped.  The world stopped.  Yet my world was spinning at the same time.


Finally Doug was there.


Car flashers on, we raced the short miles to the hospital Emergency Room.  The doctor took her.  My thoughts railed on me as I watched him examine her.


How could you let her fall?  You're a terrible mother.  You knew she was strong and could kick.  Why didn't you realized that little seat could totter and she fall out of it?   You should have kept your hand on her, not the cart handle!  Idiot!  She'll probably be retarded and you won't even know for sure for several years.  You'll live with this nightmare and damage all your life. . .all HER life!


I was still sobbing uncontrollably when the doctor handed me a calm Kimberly, and declared,  "She's fine.  I'm not so sure about her mother.  She's in much better shape than you are, Mrs. Henderson."


As I shared all my thoughts with him, he helped disentangle them with, "Babies' bones are very soft and rubbery.  They seem to be made for toughness.  I'm actually more worried about you."


It was several days before my tearfulness subsided and I could believe his words.  Maybe it was a blast of postpartum emotions.  But Kimberly is brilliant.  Unlike her unfit mother.

                                      


                                                      

                                                          Meeting Grandma Tippett

But God gives grace when we mess up.


If we could see the whole journey ahead, we'd never get married or have children, because we'd be frozen in fear.  The agonies of defeat would overshadow the thrills of victory.  So we live out our childhood dreams day by day, loving, living the joys and surviving the falls and fails of life.  It becomes a choice for faith over fear.






All moms feel like failures sometimes.  Psalm 19:35 reassures us with, “You give me your shield of victory, and your right hand sustains me; you stoop down to make me great.”

I still fail, hit bottom and come to the end of myself, but God gently comes and lifts me like that saleslady did long ago.  He bends down to infuse me with His grace, wisdom and guidance.   When we realize the One Who called us into motherhood also enables us to be the mothers we want to be, then our kids will get the mom they deserve.  Day by day. . .only in Him!

From baby dolls to newborns to grandchildren. . .oh, it's worth it!  I'd do it all again.  God placed that desire to have children within us.  He wanted them too.  So He made us His own.


On a personal note to Kimberly, Kent and Katy,

       PRESENT:  You're a reflection of who I am and what will be, as you raise a family.  

FUTURE:  When I'm gone, I hope you'll see how happy you've made me.  I'll be there.

This song says it all:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLS0Y40WwlA&feature=player_embedded

Here's another parent's blog on: Why We Have Children?
 http://www.patheos.com/Resources/Additional-Resources/Why-We-Have-Children-Timothy-Dalrymple-01-26-2011.html

A few more shots of our beautiful firstborn Kimberly:
   
                                                                                  THEN. . .

 

   

                                                                     . . .AND NOW


Maternally Yours,
Kathy