Thursday, April 16, 2015

A Letter to an 80 Year Old


Dearest Therry Dawn,

I am honored to have been asked to write a letter to you as you celebrate this milestone; your 80th birthday.  You asked me to share from my perspective, “how to spend the remaining years of your life.”   Please receive these reflections as my hopes for you.

At this point in my life, I wonder what it might be like to be 80, and I am hopeful freedom comes with age.  I am 37.   I am an ordained clergy woman in the United Methodist Church working full-time serving in a leadership position on our conference staff.  I am the mother of 3 beautiful girls:  7 year old twins and a 2 ½ year old.  I am the PTO president.  I am a dedicated volunteer teaching Sunday school, volunteering in the children’s ministry, and preaching or leading in worship when colleagues need a break.  Most of my days begin at 5:30 AM and each moment is well planned and scheduled.  I feel the pressure of time trying to get my tasks accomplished and enjoy my family as much as possible.  I constantly seek balance where I aim for success and advancement in my career while maintaining devotion and time for my family.  I imagine that at 80, the pressure for career success will no longer be a priority.  I long for the day, when I can sit a little longer with a diet coke in my hand and soak in the beauty of God’s creation.  I imagine the morning, when I no longer set an alarm clock and feel freed to stay up until midnight, as you do, because the morning doesn’t have to be so hurried and rushed.  My hope for you is that you take hold of the freedom your stage of life offers, so that your days may be filled with life-giving moments.  I hope you will fill the time with the activities you enjoy and that you will travel to the places of your dreams.  I hope you embrace time as a gift that provides you experiences and memories. 

I hope that as you approach the rest of your life, you will not succumb to the feeling that “there is nothing else that I can give to this world.”  You still have plenty to offer.  In 2011, the late Maya Angelou posted on her Facebook page,

My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style." 

Angelou was 83 when she wrote this mission statement.  I believe this statement showed her intentionality towards not succumbing to the thought that her life was over, rather she embraced that there was much life still to be lived.  I hope you will find ways to thrive with passion, compassion, humor, and style.  I hope you will continue to offer service to our world giving of yourself to the social causes that you are passionate about and that you will remain a faithful member of your prayer group (which I understand you have been part of for over 30 years).  I hope you will offer compassion and love to all you encounter and that you love the least, last and lost you encounter at places like the soup kitchen where you go to serve each Tuesday.  I hope you will laugh at yourself and at the trivialities of life.  A former parishioner who was well into her 80s called all the members of the church on their birthday.  She even continued to call me, her former pastor, on my birthday.  I looked forward to this birthday call, where her sweet voice would tell me how much she loved me and how much she celebrated my life.  I asked her about these calls and she responded, “There is very little I can do for my church, but I can pick-up my phone and make calls.”  Her birthday calls were a passionate offering of love to the world.  To her the phone call seemed insignificant, but on my most recent birthday it was greatly missed as she has now joined the church triumphant. My hope for you is to offer the world yourself, your gifts, and your passion.  Let it become your mission.

I imagine that as you turn 80, you find yourself looking back in reflection.  I hope as you look back, you do so with a deep sense of gratitude for all that life has offered.  Celebrate where you have been and what you have done and quickly pass over those times of disappointment or regret.  I am very aware that your 80 years of life tell many stories and those stories are held in the recesses of your heart and mind.  Perhaps you will consider putting them into writing or sitting with a recorder nearby, so that generations to come may have access to the stories.  You told me recently, how my great-grandmother and other women from our family were woman before their time thinking and talking of theology.  You shared how my grandmother and her twin sister graduated high school different years but both as valedictorian.  I want to know stories, such as this, and I hope you will spend your final years bringing those stories to life in writing or recording.  I imagine this will be a challenge you will enjoy as I know your love for history, genealogy and story.  Though we may seem uninterested at times, please do not grow weary in passing-on the narrative of your life.      

I imagine that as you look towards the remaining years of your life, you become more grateful for the people God has allowed you to know and love in life.  In these years ahead, spend your time with them.  Spend quality time with them and make sure they know how much you love them and open your ears to hear their love in return.  Today’s celebration is a great starting place.  You have gathered those you love in one place to celebrate life and the gift that you are to one another.  May these celebrations continue!  As you reflect over the people in your life, if you should think of someone you have hurt or have been hurt by, I pray that you will seek reconciliation.  May your years not be spent harboring resentment, but may you be freed to love as you are surrounded by the people you love.  I am sure you will reflect on those who have gone before you and now have received their eternal reward.  May their lives continue to live in you and may you find comfort in remembering that you will meet again.   

My final hope for you is found in the one who knit you together in your mother’s womb, who promises to never leave or forsake you, who knows the very number of hairs on your head, and who loves you with an unconditional and eternal love.  I hope that as you look towards the last years of your life, that you will continue to stay in love with God.   We cannot predict what life might offer, and yet we can trust that God will be with us.  Your faith in God has sustained you throughout these 80 years, and I trust that it will sustain you in the days and years ahead.  Today we give God thanks for your life and for the privilege it is to share this journey with you.  I regret that the busy nature of my own life prevented me from celebrating in person, but I hope you receive my words as a token of my love and a sign of gratitude for your life. 


May the Lord bless you and keep you. 

May the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you. 

May the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. 

Amen and Happy Birthday!

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Abundant Life





Jane got the last laugh!  She entered the church triumphant on April 1, 1998 after courageously fighting a battle with cancer.   She loved life and lived it to the fullest.  She could balance a spoon on her nose, tell funny jokes, make others laugh, and she could light up any room with her infectious smile and storytelling ability.  Jane could laugh at herself with she did something stupid.  She made strangers feel like friends and was always willing to entertain and share a Cheerwine and popcorn with anybody who stopped by house.  She loved to give gifts and let people “shop” in her Avon closet.  She always had a song on her heart and played the piano with skill and grace.  Above all else she loved Jesus and freely shared his love with all.

The doctors called our family to come to the hospital.  Treatments were no longer effective and there was nothing else they could do.  They said it was the end and that we should come.  I drove to the hospital with some dear friends that night with a sad heart and was greeted by Jane hosting a party in her hospital room.  There was singing.  There were snacks.  There were prayers and there were tears.  “I guess we are all here waiting for me to die,” she said.  She later asked my mom, “What did you pack to wear to my funeral?”  The life of the party was looking death square in the face with love, light and laughter.   Jane lived several months after that night and we all experienced the pain of multiple goodbyes as we watched a person with so much life try desperately to hold onto to the abundance of this life.  We talk about the pain and sorrows of this world and Jane knew those full well, and yet she loved life, she loved her church, she loved her friends, and she loved this world.  In her heart, she knew the best was yet to come and yet for her it couldn’t get much better as she fully lived each day.

Jane was like a second mother figure to me.  I was her only niece and the “apple of her eye.”  We had so much fun together and I have so many wonderful memories of travels, adventures, shopping, and bedtime stories.  Her life and death profoundly impacted my call to ministry.  I learned how to live, how to follow Jesus, and how to face death.  There are so many days I long to sit and talk with my Aunt Jane.  She had attended a seminary and experienced a call to ministry.  Her denomination did not ordain women, but actively lived out her call in the life of the church.  As I live out my call to ordained ministry, I also live out Jane’s calling.  I am able to stand in pulpits and boldly proclaim God’s word in places the church said she could not go.

April Fool’s Day will always remind me of Jane.  She did have the last laugh as she made her passage from one side of eternity to the next.  Her life and her laugh live on both in my heart, in my life, and in my child Mattie Jane (who by the way is the only person in our household who can balance a spoon on her nose).