Growing Older

Inside every older person is a young person wondering 'What the hell happened?'

I feel like that some days.  I have a lot of muscle and joint pain.  I'm not sure what's up, if anything.  That's the internal debate.  Am I just aging?  No, something is not right.  Are you sure?  Everybody has aches and pains.  And on and on the saga goes.

My legs.  I have deteriorating knees.  That I know and I've already had one surgery to cut out a significant portion of the meniscus in one knee.  Dr. says that I don't have significant arthritis in the knees, but, they are sore.  My hips haven't been feeling much better of late.  And then I have this muscle pain most pronounced down the back of my legs and calves.  Sciatica tends to be one side only.  This is both sides.  Feels like a constant low grade cramping.  When I stand up it feels as though I have to slowly stretch out the muscles again in order to stand without pain. 

So I wonder.  One of the things my mother suffered from was hypothyroidism.  And she had much of the same issues.  This is not as common among men but it leaves me wondering.  I also wonder about side effects of some of the  many medications I take.  Or is it just the consequence of putting in ten hour days on my feet on concrete floors?  Or maybe this is just what 62 feels like.

I will probably go to the doctor.  I am skeptical about the outcome. 

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I continue to explore the possibility of going back into business.  Olsons WoodWorks.  I enjoyed being in business and have significant investments in tools, etc.  The challenge is to make a living at it. 

One of the things that is frustrating is the difference a screw makes.  Yes, one measly screw.  If I build a cabinet that is screwed into a house, it qualifies for financing and people are OK with the expense.  If I build furniture it is a cash basis, because there is no screw attaching it to a house.  That same screw also results in the necessity of a contractor's license.  Part of the frustration is that I love making dining room furniture.  Contrast the difference between a table and chairs for a dining room, versus the kitchen cabinets.  I can get a lot more money for the cabinets.  The dining set, however, is more work and finer details.  Bottom line, I'll have to do cabinets as well as furniture to make ends meat. 

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And retirement.  Part of the consideration about going back into business is that I now have the option of supplementing my income with my pensions.  I found out this last week that Portico Benefits doesn't deal well with the concept of semi-retirement.  I'd like to draw on my pensions, but am still employed by a congregation part-time and they pay for my benefits, including health insurance.  The tricky issue is that health insurance is not normally included for retirees because it is assumed that you will be on medicare.  "Retired but without medicare" is a special underwriting category that is more expensive than anything else.  Argh!

The solution is to simply take withdrawals from my pensions without formally retiring.  Another advantage of that is that I only need take what is necessary. 

Complicating all this consideration is the caution regarding bipolar decision making.  My wife is doubly cautious as it has been known to happen in the past that I've made decisions fueled by my disease that weren't always in the best interest of our well  being.  Let it suffice to say caution is in order.

Resilience and the art of bouncing back

"You certainly have resilience cornered. . ."

These are the words of a Facebook friend, familiar with my blogs, and I appreciate them.  My response was that if you get knocked on your butt often enough you either die or learn to bounce back.  The latter is preferable. 

This is not the first time I've been associated with that word/concept.  One of my friends once said "You win the 'landing on your feet' award for this year."  My bishop once remarked "Your resilience continues to amaze me."

OK, well, so enough already.  Resilience is not a trait that I'd encourage people to cultivate, simply because it involves getting up after being knocked down, and I'd spare you that.  But the truth is life will not always spare us the hard knocks.  And I guess, getting up again is a good thing.  But being knocked on your butt is not.

Twenty years ago I wrote this prayer.  It continues to speak to me.

Hold me tight, most precious Lord,

That I might follow you.

Grant me grace to live each day,

May I be born anew.

Lift me up whenever I fall,

And never let me fade

From the grace filled light

Of your own sight

That turns the night to day.

Part of this resilience thing goes hand in hand with being bipolar.  That cycle of mania and depression, over and over again, has the look and feel of resilience.  C'est la vie.

Been a little depressed lately.  Nothing overwhelming.  Just down.  

I've found myself looking forward to retirement.  One of the things I look forward to is being on a 'fixed income'.  For many people, 'fixed income' is viewed as a negative.  I  look forward to the day that I can count on that income, month after month.  It will ease a lot of pressure.

I realize now that there are two things I really don't like about ministry.  First, I don't like the feeling that there can be a direct link between the nuances of my preaching and the level of the offerings.  People vote with their checkbooks too much, I think.  I'm not sure if this is fact.  But at times it feels like it.  Offerings are down and I wonder 'what did I say?'  

The second thing I don't like is having to censor myself regarding issues that are extremely important to me.  I'm tired of it.  "Your not in favor of homosexuality, are you?"  OK, so I didn't anticipate how significant this would be throughout the thirty years of my ministry.  But these are the times we are living in.  OK, so take a deep breath, Dave, and let it out slowly.  LGBTQ does not refer to an issue that we are in favor of or opposed to, but rather to people that we are called to love unconditionally, as Jesus first loved us.  We all stand before God utterly dependent on grace, so just get over it already.  Just get over it.

I'll say it again.  This is not an issue we're fighting about, but people we are to love and care for.  

Enough, already.  I'll get ready for church now.  I'm preaching on "Simon, do you love me?"  

The one thing I do not look forward to in retirement, whenever that comes, is not preaching.  I love to preach.  

Aging Well

In a few weeks I'll turn sixty two.  Retirement is now a choice.  Not necessarily a good choice at this time, but a choice nevertheless.  If I retired today I'd be able to match the income I've been making from my cabinet making, but not from my church work.  Delaying retirement will bring up my income to the point where I'll be able to match my total income.

But with my background it's nice to know that retirement is an option.  I have sufficient equity in my home that if I really needed to retire I could sell this home, purchase a less expensive home, and be able to live frugally.  For example, I could pay cash for a home in Otis Orchards where my church is.  There's some freedom in knowing that is an option.  My continuing to work is a choice, not a necessity.  I choose to continue working so that we can live in Sandpoint, not Otis Orchards.  We like it here.

I'm thinking about aging more these days.  Last night we had steak for dinner.  Karla and I shared one.  And we couldn't finish it. Senior portions.  And then there is my sleep patterns.  Early to bed, early to rise.  This is so foreign to the pattern I established over the course of my life.

And then there is the death of my father.  Both mom and dad are gone now.  This fact came front and center for two reasons this month.  On a trivial note, I deleted their contact information from my phone.  That was unexpectedly an emotional experience.  Secondly, the estate will settle this month.

I suppose the joy of being a grandparent also leads one to consider aging.  As does the simple fact that our children are more and more prone to 'help out' mom and dad.  And we are more inclined to accept their assistance.  I also notice this in my work at the cabinet shop.  I can still lift heavy sheets of plywood by myself.  But you know what?  If there is a young buck walking by at that moment I'm not at all hesitant to ask for and receive help.  I don't have to prove my manhood anymore.  At least not by lifting 150#.

It seems to me there is a fundamental choice that we make at this time in our life.  Do we devote ourselves to preserving our youth, or aging gracefully.

To dye or not to dye.  That's the question many women face.  Karla has chosen to wear her grey hair as a badge of honor.  She earned it (living with me!).  Fun fact-- gray can be spelled either gray or grey, it's not black or white.

To work out or not work out.  My doctors would like to see me exercise more.  I struggle with that because of my knees (and just about every other joint).  I'm on my feet and physically active at the cabinet shop.  If I overdo it exercising at home I suffer through sore knees at work.  What really bothers me is stairs and walking on uneven surfaces.  Too soon for replacements.  I'm reminded of my grandmother who never went upstairs in her home.  The children would be instructed to change the sheets when they stayed, and bring down the dirty sheets when they left.  Grandma would wash them, and put them on the steps for the next visitor to use.

Contentedness.  I'm neither 18 or 88 at this point.  I'm at peace with that.  I look forward to retirement, but I'm not desperate for it either.  When the time comes, I'll retire first from the cabinet shop and spend my time in my own shop doing furniture for my family and improving our home.  And then, I'll retire at a later date from the church I serve, depending of course on whether my call there lasts that long.  All in due time.

In woodworking, the greatest satisfaction comes from seeing the finished product.  In life I think the greatest satisfaction I've experienced is from seeing my children reach adulthood and turn out to be such wonderful people, each in their own right.  You don't get that experience when you are 28.  It's the exclusive privilege of aging.

So rather than lament the fact that I'm getting older, I'm rejoicing in the fact that my adult children are now becoming my friends.  That is truly a blessing.

Lord, Now lettest now thy servant depart in peace. . .

For mine eyes have seen your salvation.

Inner peace is the realization that salvation is past tense.  It is the realization that what once had been merely a matter of hope, is accomplished, and continues to shape a new reality of life.  That battle has been won, now is a time of living into the victory.

Fear.  I must admit that over the last five and a half years fear has been a companion.  Fear of losing all that we had.  This journey began in all hopefulness.  Conversations with my church  council resulted in our mutually agreeing that I would continue serving til retirement, and in that light they offered me the opportunity to buy a house.  We did.

There was a backlash that erupted in the congregation.  The negative voices, long dormant, came to the surface.  Anger resulted.  Rage, actually.  And my world collapsed.  I've told the story before.  Six weeks after moving into our new home I was hospitalized for chemical dependency treatment, and for depression.  What followed was a disability determination, a resignation from my call, and the daunting challenge of meeting the mortgage payments with all my income now diminished and in question.  Then a loss of disability benefits.  A new job at a fraction of what I had been paid.  Etc.

The bottom line is I feared losing everything.  And in the end, lost nothing.  Not a payment has been missed.  Things have stabilized.  For every challenge faced, there has been a solution offered. 

Now is a time of peace.  At Peace.  Lutheran that is.  At least I hope it is.  The next couple of months will probably see an extension of a Call to permanent service there.  My work at the cabinet shop continues.  I'm hopeful.  Through a combination of efforts we have replaced much of the lost income.  And the home which I feared losing, has appreciated in value at the rate of about $2,000 a month.  Not a bad investment.

But the financial realities are minimal in comparison to the peace that is being experienced.  There is nothing to prove, just an invitation to remain faithful.  Trusting.  Hopeful.  And assured.

I continue to see a psychiatrist to monitor my meds, and a psychologist to monitor my moods.  But as I told my psychiatrist this last week, I basically am just keeping them on a retainer in case I need them in the future.  I don't want to be without access to them even though my current needs for therapy are minimal.

Peace.  I am in the process of evaluating options for retirement.  When can I retire from what?  Likely our move into retirement will be a step by step process, and not a definite date.  Some benefits may be started next year.  Others will wait. 

Options exist.  We'll be alright. 

It is with a certain amount of trepidation that I venture to say life is good.  Karla is in seventh heaven being able to be a homemaker again, and especially, caring for our  grandchild Jasper on a daily basis.  I am doing two things I love, pastoral ministry and woodworking.  And, I dare say, stress is low compared to other times in my life. 

Inner peace is the realization that salvation is past tense.

What I mean by that is that there was a time that with every fiber of my being I prayed that God would get me through this crisis.  And then, there is a wakening when one realizes that indeed, God has accomplished that.  The crisis is past.  "Salvation" has already happened.

But what is it about our makeup, my makeup, that holds on to the trepidation?  That is always waiting for the other shoe to fall?  "Lift me up when ever I fall, and never let me fade from the grace filled light of your own sight, and turns my night to day."  Words of my personal prayer.  A prayer that has been answered. 

I think the boldness of my hope at this point, and the source of my peace, is the recognition that though I have fallen numerous times, God has always 'lifted me up" and that has been sufficient. 

Sufficient.  Quite a concept.  It is enough.  We tend to always want more.  And don't always get it.  Sufficient is enough. 

It's not that there aren't hopes to experience some of the things we haven't yet had the opportunity to experience.  One day I hope to have the opportunity to build furniture unencumbered by the restraints of 'business'.  I'd like build what I want to build, utilizing all my creativity, without being limited by what I can sell.  To be able to do it for the pure joy of doing it.  That may happen.  Time will tell.

I hope that Peace Lutheran will turn the corner and start to grow again.  But ministry in the next few decades will likely be different than it has been.  One dimension of that is that I used to be able to see all the people I was preaching to.  Now, I have developed a cyber congregation.  There may be only a couple dozen in worship at Peace, but through the web as many as 350 people a week are reading the sermons.  Is that the shape of the church of the future?  It is not dissimilar to Baker, MT where our congregation broadcasted over the radio station and far more people heard the word via radio than were present in the pews.

There is freedom is being able to say "That is God's problem.  Not mine."

Just be at peace.  This is the life you have the opportunity to live.  Live it.

A Life Worth Living

At the cabinet shop where I work, the boss frequents the shop and is often engaged in what some of the senior cabinet makers are doing, sometimes being quite harsh in his criticism and concerns.  I largely fly under the radar screen.

I mused the other day that either I'm that good, that he rarely has anything to say about my work, or that irrelevant.  Its that latter possibility that is unsettling.

One of my favorite contemporary songs, is a song that Pat used to sing at my first parish by Steve Green, the chorus of which is:

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
May the fires of our devotion light their way
May the footprints that we leave
Lead them to believe
And the lives we live inspire them to obey
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful

For me, one of the driving forces in my life has been simply "to have made a difference".  Sometimes I need a reminder of the difference that I have made in the lives of the people I have served.  The actual impact of our ministry is often intangible.  In the cabinet shop I can step back and look at what I've accomplished that day.  Even take a picture of it.  Not so in ministry.

One of the things I have done is kept a file that contains the cards I've received from parishioners over the years.  These words of appreciation that they have shared with me can sustain me during tough times.  In each of their lives, in a least some small way, I've made a difference, at least significant enough that they took the time to write a note and say so.  I also drive by Luther Park, the senior housing ministry I helped build, and have a very visible reminder of the difference that I made.

Is it ego?  Well, of course, to some extent it is.  But to another extent it is simply a  matter of desiring meaning and purpose in one's life.

Since Dad died, death seems much closer than it did before.  All four of Karla and my parents have now died, and we are officially the 'older generation'.  On a more immediate level, retirement is now within sight, though it may be another ten years or so away.  I keep getting notices from AARP wondering why I haven't signed up yet.  I'm reviewing our potential Social Security benefits, and our pensions, and all that good stuff that goes with preparation.

And I wonder what's left to do?

I waiver back and forth.

My manic side wants more than anything else to have yet another crusade, another major agenda, something more.  I look at the  time I have left prior to retirement and hope for the opportunity to surpass that which I've previously done.  Perhaps it is ego that drives this part of me.  Measuring one's life by the legacy one leaves.  And perhaps it is a more humble aspiration, to simply be a contributing part of the team.

The depressed side of my brain resonates with Jesus' words from the cross, "It is finished".  For the most part my life's work is nearing completion.  It is was it has been, for better or worse.

In between those poles, lies a contentment that simply is at peace with the transition that is taking place.  I may have the opportunity in ministry to contribute more toward the greater good.  And, it may also be a time to look forward to retirement and a different way of living life and achieving meaning and purpose.

I wonder about retirement.  One of the casualties of the last ten years or so of my life has been a loss of a rewarding and engaging 'private life'.  The last five years at First Lutheran were so dominated by the development of the senior housing that hobbies and leisure time activities were lost.  And then came disability and the inability to engage in anything, followed by my current load that leaves little time or energy for anything.

What will make life enjoyable and engaging in the  years ahead?

Grandchildren.  We have one.  We look forward to more.  Is there any higher calling than that?  To make a difference in the life of a child?

Earlier in my life, hunting, fishing, golf, and woodworking as an avocation, not a vocation, filled my off time.  Right now, there is little time for any of that.  But maybe in the future. . .

I also realize that my current call to serve at Otis Orchards maybe a very significant part of my ministry when all is said and done.  I began ministry with the hopes of becoming a  mission developer.  If I could finish my career redeveloping Peace Lutheran it would be a fulfillment of that first desire.  And the part time nature of that call means that it could continue into retirement.

Friendships.  One of the more difficult things about our current circumstances is that we continue to live in Sandpoint, and have developed relationships with many people here over the years. but, because I'm now the 'former pastor' there is an expectation that I limit my interactions with my former parish.  Some of our closest friends are leaving for the coast and so we are left wondering about interpersonal relationships here.  There is another aspect to this, a steep learning curve for pastors in retirement.  Throughout our careers ministry has formed the basis for the majority of our personal relationships.  Take the ministry away and you must now find different avenues for interpersonal engagement.

I'm also reminded of my psychologist's concerns as he retires.  There is an intimacy that comes with the vocation that is hard to replace.  Though our vocation focused on the other, the truth is that this intimacy fed our souls as well.

I must add, that above all else, I am blessed to have a wife whose stood by me through thick and thin, and whose companionship is itself a major part of what gives life meaning and purpose.

I remember a hymn, that perhaps is a good prayer to conclude with:

Jesus still lead on
Till our rest be won;
And although the way be cheerless,
We will follow calm and fearless;
Guide us by your hand
To our fatherland.

If the way be drear,
If the foe be near,
Let no faithless fears overtake us,
Let not faith and hope forsake us;
Safely past the foe
To our home we go.