Living Well

It is no coincidence that I was in the middle of listening to a podcast about longevity when my Granddad went to glory. I had also been talking to my mom about health when we last visited. She relayed some of the habits she saw people her age doing in order to maintain their health. I admired how she and my dad were trying to take a moderate approach: walking daily, taking their vitamins and supplements, trying to keep their prescriptions as few as possible, and eating healthy while not giving up everything they loved. I relayed how I now often drink out of plastic water bottles (something over which I once panicked), go out to get hamburgers (my husband's favorite food) pretty frequently, and buy foods that (gasp!) contain preservatives when I can't find other options, or just can't be bothered to look. Losing Granddad made me reconsider all this, not from a perspective of wanting to change any of my habits, but from the perspective that nothing can extend life forever. Living in a sin-stained world means we will all die.

If I am going to die, though, I want to live well. Granddad did that. He exercised, walking and doing calisthenics into his nineties. Even from the wheelchair which confined him these past few years, he tried to engage in activities like bowling with his nursing home cohorts. Granddad took his vitamins and prescriptions. He wore hearing aids. He also ate dessert with almost every lunch, and when he could no longer cook for himself, he ate the food his nursing home prepared for him.

I think Granddad's healthy habits helped him live long, and that is saying something considered that he nearly died of an appendicitis in his middle adult year. He traveled to I don't know how many countries, and to most of the continents. He helped build the home in which he and my nana lived for most of their later years. He moved he and Nana cross country when it came time to leave that home. He cared for Nana up until the last few months of her life, which involved doing all of the household chores, as well as carrying her from room to room when she needed to move. He survived prostate issues as well as the removal of a cantaloupe-sized mass from his abdomen. He drove up until my parents moved him into assisted living, and then long-term care. He lived a good life, until he didn't, falling so often that he needed to be confined to a wheelchair and then lost his strength to walk.

Maybe it's morbid to relay the fact that Granddad's healthy living didn't save him, but I think that's the point. He cared for himself the best he could, given the circumstances, but that wasn't his life. His life was in Jesus. His live was caring for others. He lived well, not because he focused on some wellness regimen for longevity, but because he valued life and lived it to its fullest.

I was not thinking of Granddad when I wrote on my birthday that I wanted to reclaim my life, but that goal seems even more appropriate after losing Granddad. Only God knows the number of years we will get on this earth. For Granddad it was 94. For me, it may be more or less. Either way, I want to make those years count!

Living my life needs to involve some matter of self-care, but for me, living my life may mean that I actually get a few less years out of it, if living more years requires living a constrained, overly regimented life. That's okay with me. If I live every day to its fullest, I will have a full life. That's what I want, in Granddad's honor, and for God's glory.

So if you see me over here running races that perhaps aren't the best for my health, or eating one too many hamburgers, know I am good for it. If my body doesn't look quite as fit as I could, but I am taking care of it in a moderate way, see that this is not my top priority. My top priorities are loving God, loving people, and enjoying life, supplements included only if they contribute to the above goals.

Knowing Jesus Does Make it Easier.

As I stepped out of the embrace of my husband, his shoulder drenched in tears, I thought, "Knowing Jesus doesn't make it any easier." But then I thought, "Actually, yes, yes it does. Knowing Jesus does make it easier."

Death is never easy. It is separation from a loved one in this life. It is painful, sad, heart-wrenching, real. Knowing Jesus does not make the emotional pain any less, but it does make the experience of loss different.

It has been a week now since the loss of my aunt. I have certainly shed tears over her death. At the same time, I have rejoiced that she is no longer in pain. I have celebrated that she is now with Jesus. I have remembered that she ran her race well, and with joy to the end.

Because of Jesus' my aunt's life had meaning, purpose. Because of Jesus, my aunt is not dead, but alive, with Christ, in heaven, Praise Jesus for that!

Knowing Jesus does not take away the pain of this life and this world, but it does make it easier. Friend, do you know him by faith, through grace? If not, may I plead with you to consider that journey? Admit that you are a sinner. Believe that Jesus Christ is a sinless savior able to pay for your sins. Confess Him as Lord. That's what my aunt did. I believe that's what she is doing today. She would want you, want us to join her. In and through Jesus, this is possible.

In Memoriam

It's never easy to lose a loved one, and today another one passed into glory. My only maternal aunt, mom of four, grandmother of two, and wife of one took her final breaths after a prolonged, painful struggle with cancer.

My aunt escaped death more than once. She nearly drowned as a child. She escaped eternal death through faith in Jesus as her Savior, and for as long as I have know her, she was always full of zest and joy for this life.

While I did not get to spend a lot of time with my aunt growing up, the times I did spend with her were very special. I spent part of a summer with her while my mom went back to nursing school. We enjoyed many special family reunions. My aunt was always a marvelous cook. In fact, she may be part of the reason I love oatmeal so much. She introduced me to Amish oatmeal, aka baked oats, at her house and I have not looked back since.

This aunt was always the practical and fashionable one, buying us nice, high quality clothes for Christmas. In fact, I still have and wear some of them today! She wrote long, newsy e-mails filled with details of her gardening, canning, pottery, and more. She poured into people like crazy, helping immigrants, single moms, the ill, and more.

While I did not get to visit my aunt before she died, I did get to write her a letter. She texted my mom that it was "undeserved." No, it was accurate, but that was the way my aunt lived: never deserving, always appreciative, always grateful.

After more than a year of fighting cancer, it finally took my aunt from us. Well, it took her from this life, but not from her eternal life. Jesus took her home to His home in heaven. We look forward to seeing her again one day soon.

Lily Lessons

My husband bought me some lilies some time ago. As I watched their life cycle, it struck me that lilies have much to teach us about life:

Plants need time and tending before they bloom. The lilies came to us tightly clenched and green as could be. With water, plant food, time and tending, they began to bloom. People and relationships are the same way. Given time, they usually open.

Blooming and brushing can happen at the same time. On stems with multiple buds, some buds opened early and some opened late. The early bloomers began to droop as the late bloomers began to open. Neither the droopers or the bloomers stole glory from the other. They just coexisted. 

Death and life can hover in the same breath. My husband knows I hold onto flowers for as long as I can. I will pick up petals that fall off as the plant dies until there are no more petals still standing. In the case of the lilies, some stems were totally dead while others had a bit of life left. I held on until the end. Sometimes holding on is the right choice when something is dying. Sometimes holding on to someone until the last breath is life.

--

"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?"

(Matthew 6:28-30, New King James Version)

Life and its lessons are never easy. Lilies don't hold all the answers, but their Creator does.

Is COVID-19 the Death Knell?

In the midst of rapid rises in the number of COVID-19 cases in my county, I have been contemplating my own mortality with increasing regularity. I ask myself:

-Have I done everything I wished to do? 

-If I die, will my husband have what he needs? 

-Do I want a DNR? 

-Do we need a will? 

These thoughts nearly bring me to tears. But then I remember that COVID-19 is not a terminal diagnosis. I don't even know for sure that I've been exposed to it yet. It isn't a sure death knell.

As I thought further recently, I thought of the verse, "To live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Philippians 1:21). I pictured myself at heaven's door, with my life being weighed on the scales. I saw the weight of my sin thud my side of the balance to the floor. But then I saw the weight of Jesus' perfect sacrifice land on the other side, catapulting my sins far, far away. (Psalm 103:2 says that God removes our sins as far as the east is from the west.) That comforted me. Should I go, when I go, I know where I am going: to heaven, a place where no trace of COVID-19 or its wrath remain.

COVID-19 is serious. We are taking precautions we can, but we still may get it. But even then, COVID-19 it isn't a sure killer. You know what is the death knell? Sin. We're all infected by it. We all test positive. Sin separates us from God here on this earth and in the life to come unless we have a relationship with Jesus.

Maybe this seems a bit serious or even preachy, but seriously, if you don't know Jesus, take care of it now. I have. We're all going to die, of COVID-19, or something else. And if we die without Jesus as Savior, we're going to experience even greater suffering than we currently have.

So please, if you don't know Jesus:

-Repent of your sins.

-Believe in Jesus and his perfect atoning sacrifice for salvation.

-Confess that Jesus is Lord.

Do this today. Do it before COVID-19 or something else takes you from this life. Salvation by grace through faith in Jesus is the only thing that can save you from the sure death knell of sin.

Who I Serve and Where I'm Going

Arizona lost a public servant this past Saturday. Regardless of political or religious party, I think it's hard to argue that John McCain was anything but a servant. He was first a member of the United States military, then a POW, a senator, and a presidential candidate. As Arizona and the nation have mourned his loss, I have seen his likeness and life story posted everywhere. And the one burning question I have is, "I wonder where he is now."

John McCain was not overtly religious. He was more about politics than asserting his personal beliefs. But he is still a human with a destiny, and I hope He is with Jesus.

McCain's daughter Meghan posted the following on Instagram and it gives me some hope:

But in my mind, stating that McCain is with the "Author of All Things" still does not make it clear what he believed. It's not my place to judge, it's just that I care where he went.

As I've reflected on the uncertainty of McCain's whereabouts, I've thought about my own life. I am not always open about what I believe, nor overtly expressive about whom I serve. I have faith in God through the Lord Jesus Christ, but I'm not shouting that from the street corners. I believe that I'll go to heaven because of what Christ did on the cross to pay for my sins, but I don't want to beat people over the head with it. Rather than advertising my faith on back of my t-shirt or the rear window of my car, I hope live in a way that demonstrates Who I worship and where I'm going. 

Whenever I go, I want people to know that I serve Jesus 

and that my forever home is in heaven. 

May the Holy Spirit continue His work in me to make that truth evident.