Category Archives: Learning from our past

Packing Up Possessions

Posted on by

There are two seasons of life: collecting and dispersing. When we get married, bridal shower gifts and wedding presents give us a jump on creating a new home. Then as we travel through the years, we move to bigger digs and eventually add children. Along with them comes a new volume of equipment, and all of it needs space. Children grow, we age, and the pile-up of years can pile up enough possessions to threaten our sanity.

Every once in a while it’s good to take inventory, but most of us are too busy until it’s time to down-size. And suddenly we have a problem.

Because it took four years for our family to sell our big, old house, I had plenty of time to condense our stuff. The first year I set a goal to eliminate 1/3rd or every drawer, cabinet and closet as preparation for the move.

The second year I did it again, this time stretching for half of everything. Storage began to loosen up, and it felt better than going on a diet and losing weight.

More reducing was necessary to squeeze two houses into one, and now, two years later, I’m at it again. We’ve still got too much furniture in our small home, so I’ve made plans to ditch the largest piece, a big china hutch.

This cabinet has housed my beloved collection of glass items for 25 years, and in order to send it out the front door, I needed to eliminate more than half of what it held.

And it was much harder than I thought.

I struggled to decide what to let go of and needed some standard by which to measure each piece’s value, not in dollars but in sentiment. I decided to get rid of everything that wasn’t linked to someone special.

The process wasn’t easy, but that was an excellent reason to do it. I love my glass, but it was glass-gluttony for sure. No one person needs all I had. Scripture tells us to hold our possessions lightly and continually acknowledge that all of it is God’s blessing. Our stuff finds ownership in him.

Jesus told the story of a man who did so well at accumulating, he had to build bigger buildings to hold it all. The result was an identity in what he owned and an inflated opinion of his own importance. Because of those two things, Jesus labeled him “a fool.”

The Lord challenges us to find our riches in a bond with him. People say, “You can’t take it with you,” which is true of all earthly assets. But we can take the Lord’s relationship with us when we die.

And that’s the one possession I’ll never eliminate.

“Jesus said, “Beware! Guard against every kind of greed. Life is not measured by how much you own. A person is a fool to store up earthly wealth but not have a rich relationship with God.” (Luke 12:15,21)

Looking Back, Part 1 of 2

Posted on by

I’ve always admired people who are future-focused, particularly older people. I remember Stuart Briscoe saying, “I’m in my 70’s now, and most of life is behind me. My continual temptation is to think backwards, but I’m fighting that. God still wants me to look to the future.”

My Aunt Joyce was another example of being future-focused. She called from California one day when she was 91, concerned about my mom’s health. Half way through the conversation she said, “I apologize for talking a little funny. I’m bleaching my teeth.” I loved that she was still looking toward the future.

Grieving the death of a spouse virtually always includes a long period of looking back, because in our sorrowful state, going back to those last weeks and days somehow keeps us emotionally linked with those we so recently lost.  Besides, looking forward is scary, while looking back is familiar.

Although I’m not focusing backwards with the same frequency or fervency I once did, from this vantage point I see it was healthy and healing to do that. It was part of what helped me accept the sad truth. When my mind said, “I just can’t believe he’s gone!”, looking back told me, “It’s true. He’s gone.”

It’s been 17 months since Nate died, but I had to stop to count them up, unlike earlier days when I always knew. Now, when I mentally revisit Nate’s 42 days of cancer, his death scene, the wake and funeral, it’s not as difficult, not as sad. As a matter of fact, when I look back now, one of the things I do is analyze how we did and didn’t handle things well.

So, for families currently living through the heartbreaking days of terminal disease, I share below what I’ve learned (three things today, the rest tomorrow):

1.  We knew of Nate’s impending death for 42 days, and we got to day #27 before we first talked about heaven. It was day #30 before Nate mentioned his fear of the pain that might come just before the end. I wish I would have broached these subjects earlier, especially the topic of heaven. Talking over the delights of what awaited him, as well as leaving earthly suffering behind, would have lifted his spirits.

2.  I didn’t realize how quickly mental exhaustion would overwhelm Nate’s ability to converse and think, or to want to be part of his bustling, noisy family. He sequestered himself far more rapidly than I thought he would, at a faster pace. Even while sitting in the midst of us, he wasn’t always “there”.

3.  I wish I’d known how quickly physical fatigue would overtake him. The day we scheduled his last visit with our pastor, he was too tired to participate in the conversation. Nate’s last visit to his law office came within a hair of being cancelled. He wasn’t sure he could stand long enough to ride the elevator to the 13th floor and didn’t want to use the wheelchair. He made it, but it took every ounce of stamina he had left. Had I known, we would have gone earlier.

Tomorrow I’ll share six more suggestions for those of you who are walking the difficult path of terminal illness.

“No one knows when their hour will come.” (Ecclesiastes 9:12)

I promise!

Posted on by

When the local toll roads were first built in the 1950’s, their promise was that all toll booths would be removed after the highway was paid for, about 3 years. Fifty-three years later, we’re still paying.

In the early days of driving the toll road, we received a card when we got on and then turned it in when we got off. Our toll was calculated from the card. Eventually that system was replaced with a cash-as-you-go payment, starting at 25 cents per toll. We had to stop every 30 miles or so to throw change into a plastic bin before continuing.

Now, of course, we have “open road tolling” which means the toll road can take our money without us stopping to give it to them. When Nate and I used to drive the toll road between Illinois and Michigan, he’d often complain about the highway authority going back on its word to upgrade the road into a freeway, once a certain amount had been collected. Quite a few people felt that way, expressing their opinions in law suits and citizen groups established to put pressure on the powers-that-be. But today we’re still paying.

Keeping our word is important. It’s a character quality seen less and less these days and runs rampant in the political world with unmet campaign promises. But the most important place to keep our word is in one-on-one relationships such as husband-and-wife, parent-and-child, friend-and-friend. If I was given the chance to do one thing differently in my past, it would be to keep my word better, to do exactly what I said I would do.

If I told Nate, “I’ll pick you up at the train at 6:35,” I’d be there waiting for him rather than allowing him to wait for me. If I told the kids, “Don’t do that again or you’ll get a spanking,” I’d follow through.

It’s especially important to keep our word when we tell someone we won’t share a confidence with anyone else. If we violate that, our word becomes worthless, not to mention the damage we do to that person and our relationship with him or her.

I’ve asked myself, “What would the Christian life be like if God acted like I did and didn’t keep his word?” He’s told us that he does everything he says he’ll do, and Scripture backs that up. He’s kept his promises in my own life, and I’ve seen him do it in others’. Because I’ve experienced failure at always keeping my word, I’m doubly appreciative that I can count on him to keep his. After all, his has eternal consequences, and I’m trusting him 100%.

Driving the toll roads is a helpful reminder that I want to be trusted to keep my word. And maybe in the long run, the toll road will make good on its promise, too. The latest word is that it’ll be paid for in 2034. If I still have a driver’s license at 89, you’ll find me driving the freeway.

“Set a guard over my mouth, Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips.” (Psalm 141:3)