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Crawling Out of the Hole

by Jane Jones*

I’m constantly amazed at how the Holy One works – we just have to learn to (as my Gramma Milly would say), “Let go. Let God.”

I suppose I can admit to the fact that as a lifelong “fixer” this is one hard task! I’m used to being in charge of something – I’ve trusted what I’ve known as “The Voice” my whole life, and so when I feel called to take on a challenge, I tend to step up to the plate and get to work.

Often, I’m successful in these attempts, because I believe the Holy One uses me as a tool for the good in this world. I feel humble and grateful to be chosen to help…but what happens when you suddenly find yourself on the other end of fixing?

Four years ago, real life of a different type happened and suddenly, I was the one who needed help at the deepest level anyone could know. A relationship I treasured and totally devoted myself to suddenly ended; my marriage of 22 years ran into a cement wall. I was blind-sided, shocked, heartbroken. In one day, my whole world took a 180-degree turn.

The circumstances swirling around it were ugly, very public, and it all ripped me apart. So much pain, so much doubt about myself, so many details forcing me to step into a life I truly never expected to live – on my own.

I went down a very dark hole, doing all the things another instinct tells us to do to ease the pain, and I wondered how I’d ever crawl out of it again.

This Fixer was in desperate need of being brought back to life.

Here’s the part where the God reveals just how amazing a Being God is…

At the worst time I’ve ever experienced, I was surrounded by a cloud of atypical saints, (most of them not people of faith!) and each one of them contributed to the healing journey I found myself on.

I truly was never alone.

Did you know that the God has many disguises? Do you remember that Spirit can show up in the oddest places at just the right moment (in the wrong place) to give you a poke, reminding you who and Whose you are? Did you know that getting through a life-changing event can change you in ways you never thought you would know and understand; dropping new hope, new strength, new life right at your feet?

These aren’t just buzz words thrown at us during a sermon in any church…this is absolute Truth.

I know this, because I’ve been constantly in awe of how the Holy One works – how the Holy One reaches out – always, and often when you least expect it.

With honest love from friends, family, even people I didn’t know personally, I’m finding my way back. I’m crawling out of that dark hole, one step at a time. I’m also learning about real forgiveness – God’s trademark – and true peace.

The newer me is a modified version for sure, (and a better one, I think) – and as I squint each morning at a much brighter day ahead, I find that I’m not the only one who has suffered such loss. There is so much to grieve about in this world these days…The Voice is telling me that it’s time to get to work again.

What’s different, though, is that instead of being a fixer, I’m now a “mender” because we’re all in this together. We need to patch up the torn places…and keep going.

It feels good to step up to the plate again.

Thanks, Holy One.

*Jane Jones served as the licensed pastor for First Congregational Church in Prescott from 2009 – 2015, has been SWC’s Moderator and Moderator Elect, is almost a former member of COCAM B, and currently sits in on Faith Formation ZOOM meetings. She will be one of the facilitators at the “Doing Grief Community Healing Project” at Church of the Palms in Sun City.

The Unexpected Parade

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

In an essay entitled “In Today, Already Walks Tomorrow,” Joseph Hankins recalls a Peanuts cartoon from years ago. In the first panel Charlie Brown says to Linus, “I learned something in school today. I signed up for folk guitar, computer programming, art, and a music appreciation class.” He continues, “I got spelling, history, arithmetic, and two study periods.” “So, what did you learn?” Linus asks. And Charlie Brown replies, “I learned that what you sign up for and what you get are two different things.” (Vital Speeches of the Day, October, 1997.)

If you’ve lived long enough, you totally understand what Charlie Brown is saying. One author wrote, “If you want to hear God laugh, go ahead and tell your plans.” Life rarely turns out like we expect. And perhaps no event teaches us this lesson more clearly than the event of Palm Sunday.

From the gospels we learn that Jesus and his followers come into Jerusalem and there is quite a show. For all reasonable purposes, it certainly seems like a parade and it seems like a political parade because of the waving of palms, the symbol of Jewish independence, waved for national heroes and because of what they say, at least in Mark’s version. They shout Hosanna, the nearest translation in English being, “God save the king!” The people participating in this parade, people marching and singing and shouting and waving palms, have a certain expectation of what this event means. Jesus is the new king of Israel and the days of oppression under Rome are coming to an end. Jesus is taking them to a revolution, to freedom from occupation. Jesus is finally setting them free. That’s what they expect. The parade people, maybe the disciples, maybe everyone, expect that Jesus is getting ready to change everything. And on that mark, they are right, but their expectations of how Jesus was going to do that were however, completely off the mark.

There is a lot about life that turns out that way, don’t you think? There are a lot of things we begin with that turn out to be completely different in the end. We get married and expect that we will always be in love with that person. We expect that we will be together until death do us part. And then, well, marriage isn’t quite what we expected and we find ourselves separated and then divorced. We have children, raise them up expecting them to share our values, want the same things in life that we do, and then we discover that our children are nothing like we expected. We go to college, pick a major, and expect that we will find careers that suit us, that fit who we are, and that we will stay in the same place with the same company forever. And well, all of us know how that turns out. We put our money in 401K’s. We invest in secure places. We expect that we can retire and live without too much discomfort and oh, haven’t we discovered that our expectations didn’t work out quite as we had thought? We expect that we will be ready for the deaths of loved ones and we aren’t. We expect that our health will hold up and it doesn’t. We expect that our church will always be there and we expect that nations will be moral. So often, none of these things are true. But the important part of this story is that Jesus shows up. Even when he must understand the peoples’ presence, his disciples’ expectations and friends’ dreams are not in line with what is about to happen. Still he shows up, with humility and wisdom. And love.

John Vannorsdall wrote: “Palm Sunday is not a day when we throw up our hands because Jesus was killed. It’s not a day of pessimism when we condemn the people who went home to supper, the crowds which later became ugly. It’s not a day when we get morose over the money changers in the temple and declare that nothing ever turns out well, that even God’s small parade was a fiasco. Palm Sunday, rather, is a day when we say, knowing all of this, knowing that people are fickle, get tired of parades and go home, knowing that religious leaders like things neat and tidy and kill reformers, knowing that the humble truth teller is walked upon, knowing that people will sell their souls for a handful of silver, knowing that even good friends will sleep when we suffer, it’s a day when knowing all this, Jesus came riding.”

The truth in Palm Sunday is that the event that started in a parade to celebrate Jesus, ended in a mob gathering to kill Jesus. And the lesson to be learned is that nothing ever really turns out as we expected. That doesn’t, however, mean that we have been forsaken by God. It doesn’t mean we are being punished or abandoned. It means that even when the parade doesn’t take you where you want to go, there is still the opportunity to grow in your faith, and share in the work of grace you have been called to do. Even as our expectations are not fulfilled, God is still present, active, and involved in our lives.

The Seeds of Others

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Once we moved into a church parsonage in Washington State in late October where I took the position as Interim Pastor. The front and back yards, though small, had landscaped flower beds wrapping around the house and garage. No one told us what was planted in the beds. No one told us what to expect once winter ended. In the first few weeks of spring at least forty or fifty bulbs had broken through the thawed ground and by early May, this house we called home for a few more months, was surrounded by color, bathed in the hues of spring. We came to realize that we lived in a beauty imagined and created by the hearts and hands of others.

In that season of birth and new growth and in a place gardened by others, I was reminded of the power of planting seeds. I was reminded of the hope that emerges in the hearts of planters, how diligently farmers and gardeners rake and plow and dig and make way for life. Every year lovers of the earth go to nurseries and stores, purchase the seeds or bulbs that offer possibilities, and in faith, with care and hope, drop them into the earth in joyful anticipation. Most plant gardens for themselves but some folks, like the anonymous members of that church, hearty ones who love to landscape and care for church properties, plant their bulbs and seeds for others.

It is the same in spiritual gardens. We plant seeds of kindness, faith, hope, joy, love, peace, and patience in our own hearts, hoping to enjoy the bounty of our work and desire. We plant seeds within our souls, toiling with tools to grow spiritual gifts that we look forward to see come to fruition. We pray and study and meditate and practice for us to become patient, to become kind, to become people of peace and love. It is the harvest of our work for our own souls. But we also plant seeds in the hearts of others, in temporary places, in organizations, places of worship, in souls of those who may or may not ever know our names. We plant seeds without having to reap the bounty. We plant seeds without needing to watch the garden grow. We plant seeds letting the hope of what might come, the power of what may spring forth, the joy we expect for someone else, to be reason enough to keep planting.

I’m sure I could have asked members of the Trustees who planted those bulbs that grew in perfectly-spaced rows, filling the beds in the front and back yards of the parsonage and someone would have given me names; but I did not. Instead as they popped and bloomed I thought of the people in my life who planted seeds within my soul and never saw what grew. I think of grandmothers and teachers, the parents of my adolescent friends, the authors of books that shaped me, the countless words of wisdom from others that fell like seeds in my soul and have finally begun to bloom. I will think of planting my own seeds, being kind to strangers, writing words of hope, working for justice and peace, and learn how to be content with just the planting. It takes faith to grow a garden you don’t get to harvest. It takes faith to plant a seed. I know because I lived that season in the center of someone else’s hopes for spring.

Do Lent, or not do Lent

by Rev. Talitha Arnold, Senior Pastor, United Church of Santa Fe

“What the heck is Lent?” a friend asked. “What’s with the ashes, the morose songs, the somber colors? I thought the United Church was for happy Christians. Why do we have to do Lent?”

Truth be known, we don’t. “Doing Lent” or giving up something for the next 40 days isn’t required at the United Church of Santa Fe. As part of the United Church of Christ, we’re in the reform Protestant tradition (Congregational, Disciples of Christ, Baptists, etc.) that historically didn’t “do” Lent. In fact, many “free church” Protestants looked with suspicion on Lent. Some still do. Lent was something those Catholics, Lutherans, or Episcopalians did. The ashes, giving up meat or candy, all that purple was a bit too Popish or liturgical for our tastes. As my friend said, we were supposed to be happy Christians.

Other Protestants didn’t mark Lent, because as one friend observed, in her church it was Lent all the time. With all the rules against dancing, drinking, and card playing, they didn’t have anything to give up!

So technically, we don’t have to do anything or give up anything for Lent at the United Church of Santa Fe. But many of us have found that Easter has deeper meaning, if we set aside Lent’s 40 days for something other than life or business as usual.

If we wanted to sing in a concert, we’d need to set aside time to rehearse. To compete in a basketball tournament, we’d take time to practice our free throws. The same is true for our experience of Easter. To know new life in any form—spiritually, physically, intellectually—we need to take time to practice. Setting aside the 40 days of Lent for study, prayer, silence, and other spiritual disciplines is a way to engage new ideas, new feelings, new possibilities.

Sometimes to let in new life, we also have to let go of some things. Before you start a new project, you might need to clear off your desk. Before you ran a marathon, you might want to shed some weight. The same is true of our souls. Sometimes we need to clean out and shed extra baggage to make room for something new.

Observing Lent is not required for admission to Easter at the United Church. Come Easter morning, you’ll be as welcome at United as you are any morning.

But perhaps if we take the 40 days of Lent to practice new life or if we set aside time to remember the sacredness of our lives and all life, then maybe, just maybe, Easter might have a new meaning for us this year. We don’t have to “do Lent,” but we might be surprised what’s possible if we do.

Fasten your seat belts—Lent has come!

Get ready—because Easter is on its way!

Native American Heritage Month…Last Edition: Forming Kinship Bonds with Indigenous People

by Church of the Palms member Kay Klinkenborg, MA, Spiritual Director, Member Spiritual Directors International, Retired: RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT

The Church of the Palms 19^th Annual Interfaith Conference is over; the Indigenous worship service took place. Likely we are having one of three responses. One, it is with some anticipation of what might be possible in forming bonds with Indigenous people of Maricopa County and our surrounding towns. Or two, it might be with relief that I have learned all I need to know about Indigenous history and I get it…they experienced near extinction from European colonization, genocide, forced relocation, and ongoing oppression exists. Or three, I still believe what I absorbed, heard or was taught and nothing has changed in how I see ‘this group’ of people.

Having just been through our own ‘white’ ritual of the Thanksgiving holiday it brings me to offer a few thoughts about ‘kinship.’ Is that not how God designed all of creation? It is interactive, it is about relationships. It is about giving thanks for what we have that we didn’t even ask for? Is it not about claiming that all humans, all species and living things are on this journey together? Theologians and environmentalists remind us that in our ‘Hebrew Christian creation story’ humans were created last. Not for dominion over all things prior to us…but that the world could exist without us. It is all here and we are connected to it all.

We have been given the opportunity to receive many lessons from our Indigenous speakers, our bulletin inserts about their gifts and knowledge and how collaboratively we can make a more peaceful world of harmony and support and advocacy for all oppressed or silenced people.

Matthew Fox says it more powerfully: “Our calling is a form of “Radical companionship,” both primordial and eternal, in that it recognizes that we are never separate from one another, but forever bound, and inextricably entwined. It is even beyond such catchy concepts as “interdependent,” and reflects a closeness with God and the Universe beyond simple transactions and interactions. So much so that we are not “co-“ or “inter-“ anything, but rather so tightly bound as to be inseparable. There is no “me” and “thee” here, there is no “other.” And we have no choice in the matter, regardless of what we may choose to think or believe. We can’t help being one. We just are.”

Need I say more? I am owning my own ‘call’ to be more intentional about kinship, companionship and catching my unconscious ‘othering’ and working on unconditional love, justice and extending extravagant welcome to all. As Pastor Jim Alexander stated in his sermon on ‘advocacy’ when teaching about the widow before the judge, the lessons are: be insistent, persistent and consistence. This remains a life-long task.

Migrating Home

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

I always hear them before I ever see them. Their call is a throaty, high pitched warble and when lots of them are calling, it sounds like a gathering of excited tourists, shouting to each other from across a crowded street. The Sandhill Cranes arrive every year, migrating south, spending the winters in a hodgepodge of fields about a hundred miles south of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Tens of thousands of them make the annual trek, overcoming great hardships, surviving hunters and pollution, desert winds and human population explosions; every year, winter after winter, they come.

Migrations happen all the time, everywhere. We all know the stories; some of us even follow the species. There are migratory movements of butterflies, hummingbirds, salmon, and even dragonflies. It seems as if there are a lot of creatures genetically predisposed to move from place to place.

Scientists tell us that triggers for migration may be local climate, mating purposes, local availability of food, or because of the season of the year. Whatever the pull, they keep going, generations after generations, migrators still migrate.

I believe that humans migrate too. I’m not just speaking about movements from rural life to urban existence or a relocating toward more opportunities or better jobs; I’m talking about a spiritual migration, the internal compass that we all have that guides us to head in the direction of goodness.

We don’t hear about that migration very much. The news gives us other headlines, stories that talk about our propensity toward greed and evil. We hear much more about our leaning in the direction of selfishness and violence. And of course, we know these stories all too well. However, there is something else in our make-up, something that drives us to a better existence, something pulling us to kindness and generosity. We are made in the divine image of our creator and because we have that image stamped upon us, there is a natural migration towards our best selves, our goodness.

Occasionally, we do hear those stories too. We hear about the heroic efforts of those who bear no thoughts for their own safety, rushing headlong to the aid of others in need. We hear about children, not yet cynical about our species, deeply moved by the suffering of others and who remind adults that as human beings we must care for each other. We hear those stories and we are moved by them and not because they are interesting or foreign. We are moved by them because they remind of us of who we really are, where we are meant to be.

It is easy to forget our divine calling, how we were created, what we really need to survive. Many of us have lost our way, feel unable to make the return journey to what sustains us. But the species is not lost. We still know the path. We just need to remember what we have always known. Just listen to your heart. You will get back home.

The Gift of the Vote

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

I know it sounds crazy but I always weep when I vote. It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not because of the polarization in our country or that my chosen candidate is not likely to win. It’s not because I feel sad or tired or weary, though voting seasons can leave me feeling those emotions.

I weep because I am always mindful of what was required from others for me to have the right to vote. I’ve seen the documentaries, read accounts of the women fighting for the right to vote. I know how they were jailed, force fed during their hunger strikes. I know they faced danger and harassment and suffered great losses for their commitment to pass the 19^th amendment in 1919. I know those stories of courage.

I weep because I remember in 1994 when South Africans stood in line for days to finally be able to cast their votes and elect Nelson Mandela as the nation’s president, finally putting an end to apartheid. I saw the news reports of the miles-long lines of people withstanding hunger, danger, and fatigue, refusing to give up and go home when they were forced to wait. I know those stories of perseverance.

I weep because I think of people like Fannie Mae Hamer who was beaten because of her work for voters rights in the 1960’s, of how many times and how many places people of color were turned away from the polls, how many of them lost their jobs, their livelihoods, their lives, to get to the polls, how so many died trying to register voters or cast their ballots. I know those stories of faith.

I weep because I know there are countless places in our world where religion and politics disallow women to vote, where the voting doesn’t matter because of corruption, and places where voting just simply doesn’t happen for anyone.

Voting is not to be taken lightly.

This election will not bring us closer together. This election will not cure the ills of our nation or usher in some new world order of peace and unity. In many aspects, we have lost our way in knowing how to build bridges, how to work together, how to put aside our hatred and resentment and create a government and society that allows for differences, where leaders from all sides sit down at the table and are willing to listen to one another. I doubt the state of affairs will somehow become better no matter the election outcomes. Still, the right to vote was a costly one for our ancestors. The right to go and stand in line and cast a ballot is a great privilege that has been given to us on the backs of those who fought before us.

So, make sure to vote; and while you wait to be handed the long white sheet of paper; when you enter your private queue, take the pen and color in the circle of your choice; when you hand over your completed ballot and walk out the door, take a minute and remember this privilege that is ours today. Take a breath and be grateful.

You might just shed a tear too.

Comfort prayer for a friend

by Rev. Deb Church

Our Father who art in Heaven—
and who is with us, wherever we are…

…hallowed be thy name.
Your name, O God, is holy
and rests in our hearts
and on our tongues
sometimes like honey
sometimes like vinegar
sometimes a blessing
sometimes more like a curse
sometimes coming out in a song of praise
sometimes, escaping in a groan from the depths of our souls
But always, O God, holy is your name…

…Thy kingdom come—
in all the places
and in all the spaces
we are.
Come, healing and wholeness
Come, truth and justice
Come, forgiveness and belonging
Come, mercy and grace
Come, peace and hope
Come, love and Beloved
Come, Reality and Reign of God…

…Thy will be done—
as we trust in you
with hearts soaring
and hearts breaking
anxious and angry
grieving and confused,
as we place our loved ones
and our lives
in your strong and gentle hands,
letting go of control
holding on to hope
letting go of outcomes
holding on with trust
letting go of fear
holding on in Love…

…on earth as it is in heaven—
right here
in the middle of the muck
and mess
as we journey
from dust back to dust
embodied Spirit
walking around in
these bodies
clay pots
cracked
beautiful
broken
whole
Holiness
found right here
in the middle of the muck
and mess
of our world…

Give us this day—
today
now
in these moments
in this moment…

…our daily bread—
what will feed us
what will nourish us
what we need
in these moments
whether we
know it
recognize it
see it
feel it
or not…

…and forgive us our sins—
Forgive us, O God.
Forgive us
for our messiness
for our mistakes
Forgive us
for the hurt we inflict
without wanting to
and for hurt we long to inflict
that all comes from
the hurt we’ve received
Forgive us
for the hurt we cause
that we don’t know and
for the hurt we cause
because we don’t know
our woundedness
Forgive us, O God…

…as we forgive those who sin against us—
as we look with compassion
at those who hurt us
out of their hurt
as we look with tenderness
at those who hate us
having made us bearers
of the hate they feel
for themselves and cannot name
As we offer mercy
that we have received
to those who deserve it no more than we do
who deserve it no less than we do
Forgive us our sins, O God, with the same freedom
with which we forgive
or not
those who sin against us…

…and lead us not into temptation—
Keep us from going down
easy paths
of self-pity
well-worn paths
of shame and blame
familiar paths
of regret and guilt
paths that are so easy to follow
paths that take us
to no place good…

…but deliver us from evil—
and instead
into Hope
into Healing
into Peace
into Joy
into Love…

…for thine
is the kingdom
and the power
and the glory
forever—
And ever.
And ever.
And ever.
Always.
No matter what.
Amen.
And amen.

From Deb: Here’s something I wrote last night…as a prayer for a dear friend whose husband (who is also a dear friend) was near death. They are both members of my church, and I love them dearly. They’ve been in California for the last several months, while he was receiving treatment for his cancer. He died this morning… I hope and pray that something in this “fleshed out” version of the Lord’s Prayer gave his wife some bit of comfort last night, or perhaps will at some point in the future.

Kickin’…Cryin’…Denyin’ …or Grace? The Undeniable Experience of Aging

by Kay Klinkenborg MA, Church of the Palms; Spiritual Directors International; Retired RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT

I have a pact with my husband and a long-time friend, sister by another mother, that if I am not bathing, not hearing, not paying attention to myself, they are to ‘kick me in the butt’ and wake me up to make an appointment with my physician for a thorough assessment. I am trying to get out ahead of the fact that I might not always be attuned, sharp or paying attention…so I want some trusted observers with me on this journey of aging and transitions.

There are volumes of Internet articles, YouTube presentations about growing older with grace. As well as books galore about the topic. Is there anything new to say?

Why is it the natural process of aging for humans is often fought so fiercely with denial? One reason: we are an ageist society. We don’t honor aging. We don’t honor elders. We don’t claim the wisdom that years can bring to be shared. We are blind and isolate the aging persons in our life. Maybe most of all, we deny our own aging. Authors, Better and Hunt in Aging with Grace: Flourishing in an Anti-aging Culture state: “Today’s culture, however, marginalizes old age, often portraying it as burdensome and hopeless.” ¹

Susan Whitbourne, PhD, professor of Psychology at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst says: “For some reason, our society is very obsessed with pointing out negative aspects of aging,” ²

I wince each time I hear an elder say: “I can’t do what I used to do and I don’t have anything to offer.” That is not true.

Betty Friedan had a good quote: “Aging is not lost youth, but a new stage of opportunity and strength.”

“But if you get to be older, you have survived a lot of the threats to your physical and psychological integrity that have affected other people who are no longer around,” Whitbourne reminds us.² She also notes: through good luck or good genes or both, the old have dodged fatal accidents, premature disease, and other things that kill the young. “You are stronger, and you get to live longer,” “Most people think that’s a benefit.”²

One more time in life, we have choices. Choices about our attitude and approach to aging.

As I read articles, scanned the books I have collected on the topic of aging: three major themes arise: adaptation, wisdom sharing, and aspiring to age with grace.

The question is: How are you approaching aging?

Adaptation

This is a choice. Reality…aging is life. We know it is going to happen, and it can’t be altered. We can be bitter, angry about how life has turned out for us. As if we could do anything to chance the past. That is fruitless thinking. If we are angry, I find there is a need to forgive ourselves of somethings and/or possibly to forgive others.

Adaptation is going with the flow. Discovering what we can learn right now.

Adaptation is continuing to participate in our evolution as part of God’s creation.

Adaptation is owning “it’s not over till it’s over”.

Adaptation is asking yourself: “what do I need right now?”

Wisdom Sharing

Life experiences have taught us a great deal. We have our own parables to share that can inspire others. Yes, our life experiences are parables. Parables are not limited to sacred texts or the biblical stories. I am not talking about having to write books, leave journal pages for the next generation. I am talking about telling our stories and what we have learned. It is also about sharing what questions remain and owning there are some questions for which we will never has answers.

We will not share our wisdom if we do not stay engaged. You get to pick how you wish to stay engaged with other people; listening to their stories and sharing yours. We know that disengagement with others when aging leads to depression and extreme loneliness. Older adults make up 12% of the US population, but account for 18% of all suicide deaths. This is an alarming statistic, as the elderly are the fastest growing segment of the population, making the issue of later-life suicide a major public health priority.³

Aspiring to Age with Grace

This is a conscious decision. We cannot successfully, fruitfully age with grace by being unconscious about our choices. Just because we’ve reached a certain age doesn’t mean we don’t have to stay awake and be kind to ourselves and others.

Experts write books and treatise on ‘what is grace’? When I think of grace, I return to the basic concept I would teach a child about grace: “God is kind to you because God loves you. You deserve this.” Isaiah 46:4: reminds us lest we forget: “I will be your God throughout your lifetime—until you hair is white with age. I made you and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you.”

How do you give yourself grace? I have accumulated this list over the years.

Ways to Give Yourself the Gift of Grace

Don’t be perfect, be real. No one is perfect (repeat after me: no one is perfect). …
Mess up, but don’t let yourself feel bad. … mistakes are ‘mis takes’ a chance to try again
Give yourself permission to not do everything….
Never feel selfish for taking “you” time. …
Do one thing a day you’re proud of.
You come learning how to do this transition in life…just like you came learning how to do prior transitions/changes. This time…you have a tool box of skills!
Trust your intuition; it will seldom, if ever fail you.

I share a brief story of a long-time friend and spiritual mentor, Sr. Ann Regina Baker, OP. She died last year at the age of 101½ years. She is a role model for me in adapting, wisdom sharing and aspiring to age with grace.

Upon entering religious life, her ministry was in teaching music. Then she got a doctorate in spiritual direction. I don’t know the exact age when she moved to the Dominican Mother House to live in an apartment. Most of the sisters in her Dominican community never consider leaving formal ministry until after 80 years of age or older (unless something medical happens.) She continued with spiritual directees, she taught classes weekly and she lead private and group retreats.

Ann Regina called her physical aging changes, physical diminishments. She accepted in stride and with grace as she gradually lost her sight due to macular degeneration. She approached her physically loss to walk with the same attitude. She remained a teacher for Monday morning ‘Spiritual Growth’ class for her Dominican Sisters living in the Motherhouse until the age of 99. She was totally blind by then and was memorizing what was read to her or she heard on DVDs or tapes. The day came for her to physically move from her apartment at the Mother House to the Skilled Nursing Unit.

A mutual friend went to visit her to see how she was doing not having a class each week and no spiritual directees? “I am preaching from my pillow” was her response.

What a wisdom teacher! She modeled adaptation, wisdom sharing and aspiring to age with grace. May I have courageous and attunement that I am ‘always preaching’ whether I think others are listening or not. It is my choice about how to age gracefully.

“We can’t control our destiny, but we can control who we become.” Anne Frank

¹Aging with Grace: Flourishing in an Anti-aging Culture (2021). Sharon W. Betters & Susan Hunt.

²Katherine Kam: https://www.webmd.com/healthy-aging/features/the-art-of-aging-gracefully

³ https://www.aamft.org/American Association of Marriage and Family Therapists

https://www.mhanational.org/preventing-suicide-older-adults