I think we can see a Rembrandt or a Vermeer in a museum and not need it hanging in our homes. We can see the power and beauty of the finest Teslas without owning one. Those things represent the permanency that is sought in the rat race.
To me the only permanence I eagerly await is the eternal in the glimmering kingdom of God.
When I was a junior in college I caught infectious mononucleosis. My physician at the infirmary said I should drop a course that quarter to diminish the stress of my studies.
Good advice, I guess. I jumped at the chance to lessen the daily grind.
The school required a social science course and philosophy appeared to be something new and interesting. Boy was I wrong. The course seemed worthless and boring. So I jumped at dropping it.
In retirement, I am fascinated by some areas of philosophy. It is the study of reality. It asks the Why? questions.
Philosophy helps us to probe these challenging questions. How can I be the best husband for Kristine? I find it particularly powerful when philosophy underscores tenets of my Messianic Jewish faith.
Oh how we change and it’s only been 55 years.
“To be human is to have a collection of memories that tells you who you are and how you got there.” Rosecrans Baldwin, an American novelist.
I think that’s true in large part. We are all tested by life and we remember our responses. Nonetheless, we change over time, so that who you are can continue to be challenging. We do surprise ourselves for the better and for the worse.
It has been said that in a long term marriage each spouse in a sense is married to several people. Our age and experience do affect who we are.
Although we have our ups and downs, including things we have said we would like to have back, I would hope by the grace of God you and I have become more loving and patient.
Patience itself is quite challenging to me. Even out of the rat race it’s hard to slow down, not that I was, or, any of you are rats.
“People can say what they like about the eternal verities, love and truth and so on, but nothing’s as eternal as the dishes.” Margaret Mahy, the late New Zealand author.
They just seem to always be there. The dishes must have DNA by which they multiply.
But alas, Kristine and I have ten placemats that make our lives easier. The mats don’t grow old. They remain pristine, whatever that means. They are indestructible.
Five-year-olds can make war with them and sometimes do. Old guys like me can no longer keep a tie or placement clean. But those placemats clean up well assaulted by every known foreign substance. It would take powerful munitions to kill the critters.
But the parade of dishes that must be un-spit polished. It just keeps coming.
“The best way out is always through.” Robert Frost. Why kid ourselves spending lives in denial? In our psyches, if one problem gets pushed down, another presses upward, usually of equal force.
Why not benefit from God’s grace for the thought and heart He can help you muster? It can get you through what ails you.
He wants your heart. Why not let Him have it?
It will be hard at times and easier at other times. As one tries to grow more each day on the journey, it bears a relationship to a successful, long marriage with it’s joys and difficulties
It’s about Love. The Love that lasts forever.
“Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it’s cracked up to be. That’s why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don’t risk anything, you risk even more.” So said the very popular American writer, Erica Jong of Fear of Flying fame.
Interesting. She has been wed four times. She may have fought bravely to keep those first three marriages together and failed.
It can feel like an enigma. But, love is the most precious aspect of our lives. It’s the highest form of life. To avoid love because of its pitfalls is to avoid the essence of life.
Love is the beauty of God’s creation.
“I’m 90. Writing is what gets me up in the morning.” Elizabeth Jane Howard, the late English novelist.
It gets me up as well. It’s that drive to produce a work of value in English, the beautiful language I developed by osmosis in my first decade. I am not kidding myself about age. Thousands of spicy meals, innumerable heartbeats, millions of activities in these joints. It’s all happened. Past tense.
I am in my eighth decade, too rapidly approaching my ninth. But though a bad back may prevent my tennis serve, it doesn’t impact tapping a keyboard in an ergonomic workspace.
Hope you are enjoying it. Thank God I got here. A lot of people didn’t.
“We’re all strangers connected by what we reveal, what we share, what we take away—our stories. ” Libba Bray, an American writer.
Oh, how we need each other’s stories. It’s one reason we blog, fellow bloggers. It’s the reason we stay abreast of one another whether relatives or friends via Facebook, Instagram, email, text, Zoom, etc., etc.
In Bray’s terms, the “strands of humanity” help us whatever our age, particularly in our anecdotage. Thanks to one and all for reading my blogged anecdotes and books. An electric handshake to each of you.
“We’re all alive the day before we die.” So said Julia Glass, an American author who won the National Book Award.
When I was a medical student on the pediatric wards, I loved to see how quickly some children could recover. They were suddenly full of life.
Thank God that the childhood leukemia that was treated has a much more favorable prognosis than it did those 50 years ago. I helped admit one terrified little girl who, though quite alive on admission, did not last out her stay.
Lord knows life is short. Our time is short. And that day before our death, we might well feel wonderful. Oh, but to keep our lives meaningful, full of love, and to be thankful to our Maker for every breath.
“Words can sting like anything, but silence breaks the heart.” Phyllis McGinley, the late Pulitzer Prize-winning American author.
The power of silence? It enhances brilliant speeches and theatrical dialogue. It can give great peace to a couple together.
Words can be very painful, not soon forgotten. But silence between a couple? In a committed relationship is there anything more painful than silence expressing deep anger? I don’t think so. How do you see it?
Pilgrim on a Long, Long Journey 