Aging

OK, so I am officially old. I find myself talking more to my peers about the subject of personal health. I said that I would never do this, but here I am at 64 years talking about this aching bone or muscle with friends. It is probably their fault, because I am sure that I would never bring up such a subject—not!

I am a Boomer. Each year more than 3.5 million Boomers turn 55. Their swelling numbers made America’s 50 and older population reach 100 million during 2012. According to the UN Population Division, 1 in 5 people are expected to be 65 or older by 2035. I don’t figure I will still be walking around and counted as one of the 1 in 5, so those stats don’t faze me very much. However, some of my children are reading this post and the point is this: what are y’all going to do with all those old people?

Many of our friends are either retiring or thinking about retiring soon. From my perspective retiring is not all that it is played up to be. I am sure that there are plenty of people who really enjoy retirement. They are probably those who were smart enough to frugally tuck financial resources away so that they could live very comfortably in their retirement. I enjoy doing things with some friends who are retired—I think they may be a bad influence on my work ethic because when I go somewhere with them they are not in as big a hurry as I am.

I listen to them talk about how they are enjoying their retirement, and I am very happy for them. But I am not sure that I want to retire.

I am not foolish enough to believe that I can work when my health is failing and I begin to lose my mind. But I just want to work as long as I am able to do so. I love to work. I love my job. I love going to work. I want to continue working until I die.

In a Labor Day speech to the New York Agricultural Association in 1903, Teddy Roosevelt said, “Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing; and this is a prize open to every man…”

I am very happy that my work is worth doing.

 “So I saw that there is nothing better for a man than to enjoy his work, because that is his lot. For who can bring him to see what will happen after him?” Ecclesiastes 3:22 NIV

Saddle sore

The grandkids have often asked me why I don't have a horse, and I have told them that first of all they eat too much and they ruin a pasture for grazing other livestock.  The other reason I give is that they have to be ridden often, and I would be the one to ride them several times a week.

I grew up riding horses. My family had horses and Shetland ponies at one time or another for many years. Caring for animals is something that I have always enjoyed, but I loved riding horses during junior high and high school. 

Collin has been wanting to ride horses for a long time, and I promised him over a year and a half ago that I would take him to some friends’ farm to ride.  He didn't nag me about going, but he has been regularly reminding me about this promise. 

My friend, Buddy (I wrote previously about him), and his family live on a cattle and horse farm in east Tennessee, and they had invited us to come to see them and ride horses. We had a great time with them one weekend recently, and we rode a LONG TIME! It was a lot more riding than I had bargained for, but, hey, Collin was very happy. 

Oh my! Was I ever sore! I don't ever remember being sore during those years of growing up with horses--probably because I rode so often? No, more than likely because I am 50 years older now!

I read recently that John Wesley spent 53 years riding a horse and preaching. Okay, so let's say he started riding and preaching when he was 15 years old--he rode until he was older than I am now. That is called suffering for the Lord.  

John Wesley planted 500 churches and 140,000 people came to faith in Jesus over those 53 years of horse-back riding. He had incredible perseverance.

Hudson Taylor once said: "Every challenge has three stages: impossible, difficult, and done. The hardest stage is the difficult stage because it takes perseverance." Many of us give up when a task gets to be difficult. 

As I look back over the last few months I am asking myself, "Have I persevered through a difficult task and called it done?" 

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." Heb 12:1-2

Solitaire

I gave Cheryl a Kindle HD for Christmas. She has been using an old Kindle for a few years, and I thought she would enjoy the added features of this latest and greatest. She is really enjoying the much improved resolution as she reads her books, but I have been very surprised at the feature that she uses the most--a Solitaire ap!

We are on a plane together now, and because we changed our flight to catch an earlier flight, we are on the same row, but we are both in middle seats. To make it worse I have this giant of a man in the seat next to me. You know--the kind you see coming down the aisle of the airplane and you are thinking/praying "please don't let him sit by me." Well, he is into my space!

So, I am trying to work on email, and I give up. I look over at Cheryl and she is --that's right, she is playing Solitaire. I am wishing that I had bought her an electronic toy sooner as I see cards dancing all over her Kindle screen indicating that she has won a game, and I hear her say to a seat mate (not nearly as ample as mine), "Three minutes."

I never played Solitaire on one of my electronic apparatuses until I saw how much fun Cheryl was having. It's contagious. I am looking for opportunities to be mindless and play Solitaire on my iPad, but, I don't enjoy it nearly as much as Cheryl does. I get too frustrated. I have a problem with my ap: it does not have a “redo” function. I don't like it when I play a card, and immediately I recognize that I made a mistake and I want to take it back. If I could only take back that card and play another one already on one of the stacks, it would open up that one card that is still face down and I could watch those dancing cards on my screen. But this darn game ap won't let you take it back. It has no element of grace.

I wasn’t able to finish this post on the plane—have you ever tried typing when your head in under the armpit of the guy next to you and his body mass reaches over the armrest? So, I just found out from Cheryl that her Solitaire ap has a “redo” function. I have decided to download her ap—maybe that is why she always scores so much better than me because she has a different ap. Maybe I should rethink this. Playing on the same ap would be apples to apples and then I would not have any excuse for her clobbering me…

I am thinking about all those times when I have said something and I wished that I could take it back. I have hurt people and oh, how bad I felt immediately. Wouldn’t it be good if we were equipped with a “redo” button.

But, we actually have something much better: God has given us an ap of grace. He fills my brothers and sisters in Christ with grace so that when I hurl a missile at someone I love or someone with whom I work, they forgive me and love or like me regardless of my faults.

"I will guard my ways that I may not sin with my tongue." Ps. 39:1a

Thank you Lord for forgiving when I can't take it back. Thank you loved ones, friends, and colleagues for forgiving me when I beat you up with my tongue.

Communication and community

I love the spontaneity of younger children. They will say most anything. We are so fortunate to have 11 grandchildren—and we expect more. Inshalla. We have more time with the four who live in the same town as we do, and we are blessed that they go to the same church as we do. With the rest of the grandchildren we have to experience many events and funny stories via various media instead of face-to-face, and we are thankful for the technology that is available to us.

When we lived in West Africa we were so far in “the bush” that it took an air letter (some of you don’t even know what that is) from the states 2-4 weeks to get to us. Our address was simply our name, Diabo, Upper Volta—no postal codes, nothing else. If one of our colleagues in Ouagadougou, the capital city, needed to get a message to us, they would send someone on a moped one day—about a 7-8 hours trip on a moped—and we would send the return message back the next day.

 When we left Burkina Faso in 1987, the only direct real-time outside communication with the rest of the world was our short-wave radio and one radio station from Ouagadougou—FUN! I returned to Burkina Faso in 2008 with two Operators from our company to conduct a SERVE conference in Ouagadougou. Our conference was sponsored by the Ouagadougou Chamber of Commerce and the Canadian-Burkinabe Alliance. When we left in 1987 we were working with the poorest of the poor, and when we returned 21 years later we were working with some of the wealthiest business leaders in the country.

Our host had agreed to give us a vehicle with a driver so that we could go out to the area where we lived for several years. It was only a 3 hour drive compared to over 4 when we lived there—the difference was not better roads, but a maniac driver! We departed before sunup so we virtually had the entire day to spend in the villages where we lived. It was a huge joy to see so many friends and former colleagues (all Burkinabe, as there are no expats living in that part of the country now).

Unfortunately, most villagers still experience the physical hardships of living in a drought-stricken and poverty-ridden area of the world. However, the spiritual situation is a blessing—there are churches in 75 villages in that area. The biggest change was that some villagers have mobile phones—even though there is no electricity anywhere near that (more on that in another post). Occasionally, I receive a phone call or text from one of the pastors in this remote corner of the earth. I am simply amazed at all the communication tools that are available to us today.

I have been convicted lately—not to get a Facebook account—but to use the tools available to build Christian community.   Our deacons have recently started having an accountability partner. For a month at a time each of us is paired up with another deacon, and we are responsible for phoning, texting or emailing each other. It has already helped us to build a stronger community among the deacons.

 How many times have you told someone in an email, on the phone or in a text that you are going to pray for them? Why don’t you just do it immediately instead of telling them what you are going to do? Pray for them on the phone. Write a short prayer via text or email. All these acts of kindness and love demonstrate Christian community; they are quickly done, but they reap a huge return on your investment.

 While you are thinking of other ways to use your technology, don’t forget about snail mailing hand-written notes. “A handwritten note can be one of the most important things you do to distinguish yourself from others” (DaleCarnegieTraining.net). Statistics show that thank you notes are opened far more than any other snail mail or email.

 Look around you—what is the condition of the community in which you live, work, play, and worship? What are you doing about it?

Holy Spear

When I was 5 years old we lived on Portwood Street in Greenwood, Mississippi. There are a lot of memories from living in that house. We only lived there a few years as my parents frequently would sell our house and buy another one to “move up” and get a better and bigger house. This one was small—two bedrooms and a bath, but this was where we lived when my folks bought our first television.

 Before we bought a television, all I knew about this magical box I learned when we would park our car in front of the Western Auto and watch the moving pictures in a wooden box in the display window of the store. That was a great advertising gimmick—to leave a TV on all the time (well, at least when programming was going on) for people to see what they were missing by not having a TV at home. It worked for my folks, so we had our first television. After seeing Howdy Doody for the first time, it became my favorite show (www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIslhp9vqqw).

 Other memories from that house included the arrival of my brother, Barry, who I started calling “Bubba”—and it stuck to this day. But, sorry Bubba, I have much more vivid memories about TV and about one other thing: my mother would come to my bed every night to have prayers with me. I would pray something—don’t remember what. However, I vividly remember that she would often thank God for the Holy Spirit who would be right beside me and protect me all night long. It would have been okay if I had truly understood what my mother was talking about, but I did not sleep well many nights because I thought she was saying that the “Holy Spear” would be beside me all night long!

 Now for a five-year-old you can imagine what went through my mind. I was afraid to open my eyes after the prayer because there was a Holy Spear next to my bed!

 It was only several years later that I begin to understand what the Holy Spirit is—and I am still working on that understanding.

 How many times do you hear someone pray, “Lord, we pray that your Spirit would be with us today in this service,” or “God please be with them as they travel.” These are well intended prayers, but they lack an understanding that God’s Holy Spirit is right beside us ALL THE TIME. “And behold I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20

 Thank you Heavenly Father that you are with me every nanosecond of my existence. May I not be afraid of your presence beside me, but may I be filled with confidence and joy because YOU ARE ALWAYS WITH ME. Rejoice!

The edge of light

Will, my new son-in-law, is an avid cyclist. He is not into the casual bike riding; he is into the 50-mile type rides. He is a serious cyclist. I am the type that may have ridden 50 miles in my lifetime!

Last week he showed me a new light for one of his bicycles. We had most of the lights off in the living room, so he turned the light on, and WOW! That little light put out some lumens—400 to be exact. I was impressed at that circle of light. Then, I asked him what that little light was worth. He told me that it retailed for $100. That’s right--$100 for a flashlight!

OK, it is an expensive light, but I was still impressed. After his demo of the light, I thought about that circle of light and how distinct the difference in the light and darkness was. It reminded me that often we who walk in the light are afraid to step outside that circle of light that is our comfort zone. We walk to the edge and do not trust God to provide the light for us as we walk into the darkness of the unknown.

How many times has the still quiet voice of God spoken to us and we have responded in our heart of hearts, “I can’t do that” or “I am not qualified to do that, Lord,” or “Lord, you have to find someone else who knows better than me how to do that.”

Walk to the edge, take another step and trust God to provide the lumens.

“And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him.” Hebrews 11:6 NASB

Getting caught

Living in West Africa afforded our family many opportunities to be exposed to “wild” animals. Even though these wild animals were a long way from our home, our kids grew up with exotic animals. Villagers learned quickly that I would buy most any animal from the wild, so they regularly brought us all sorts of creatures.

I never paid much for any species, but the villagers were very happy to get anything for something that they thought was so trivial as a wild animal.  At one time or another we had a baby crocodile, a bush baby, a dikdik (miniature antelope), a monkey, an African Gray parrot, and so forth. The kids enjoyed caring for them and they learned a lot about caring for animals—although they had plenty of experience caring for our flock of chickens, goats, sheep, pigs, ducks, a horse, donkeys, cows, turkeys, guineas, and rabbits.

One day a man that I had never seen came to our gate with a pair of elephant tusks tied on the back of his bicycle. The tusks had blood on the tusks that was not yet dry. The man told me that he cut them out of a “dead” elephant earlier that day. I had my doubts about how that elephant became classified as “dead.”

They were a beautiful pair of ivory tusks, and he wanted to sell them to me for a very small amount of their value. I really wanted those tusks. I was salivating to buy them, but a small voice in my head was saying to me, “You know that it’s unlawful to possess uncut ivory in this country,” But, another voice was saying, “You will never have another opportunity for a buy like this. Those tusks are worth a lot of money.” I was thinking about how good they would look decorating our home, but then I was thinking of how quickly our family could be expelled from the country.

Sound judgment prevailed and I did not buy them, and I quickly asked the man to leave our property as I did not want to be caught with those tusks at my home. I have thought many times about this incident and particularly about what made me decide not to buy the tusks. Was it that I did not want to break the law, or, rather, was it because I was afraid of getting caught? I must confess that it was the latter. I was more afraid of what others would say about me if I got caught or what they would think about me for buying contraband. I knew the right thing to do, but I was VERY tempted to do what I knew was wrong. Being tempted is not a sin, but if I had bought those tusks it would have been wrong.

So, whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin (James 4:17).