Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass- it is about learning to dance in the rain.

Sunday, January 23, 2011


      I really have to learn to use my cell phone for recording stuff.  Stuff, like ideas.   I think of the most marvelous things to blog about...when I'm driving, when I'm sitting in church, when I'm up singing.   Whenever I'm in a situation that I can't write down my ideas.    And now.....when I'm settled in nicely ready to brain freezes.  Completely   I could blame it on chemofog...but it's been almost 3 years since I finished chemo.  The brain does heal itself.  So I'm thinking I have to admit that part of it, at least, is simply due to age.   There I said it!

   Like this morning, I'm looking in the mirror and trying to fix whatever it was that happened with the primer for the eye makeup that I was applying.   Little globs of "stuff" appear.  Not very attractive "stuff."   While cleaning it all off to start over again, I noticed that woman in the mirror.   "Who is that old woman looking at me?"   Or maybe I should be politically correct and clean up my thoughts to myself about myself.  (Do I need to do that?)  Probably not, but as a teacher, it's habit.

     So, the "elderly lady" in the mirror.   What happened?  What happened to the face that used to greet me every morning?    The face went from Bible School, through a couple of assistant pastoral stints, then to a missions assignment. And a couple of baby boys born.  Life in the jungle for a few years.  Life in a mile-high city in South America for another year.  Steamy jungle; dry mountain air.  Then back to the mid-west for a few decades.  A few decades of assisting, pastoring, studying,  (a bachelor's degree, a master's degree, a Psy.D, a teaching certificate, a couple of endorsements, etc.)  a liver donation, breast cancer and chemotherapy.  A few side jobs squeezed in there somewhere:  immigration counseling, administrative assistant, counselor, emergency room consultant.  Always the pastoral work, public school teaching, parenting and grandparenting.     I suppose the wrinkles are well-earned.  Every dry spot, every scar, every droop and jiggle of skin.  All well-earned.   All contribute to the look of that stranger in the mirror.

     Interestingly, inside I feel much the same.  Still have hopes and dreams, things I'd like to accomplish.  However, with the miles comes some wisdom, with wisdom, a measure of peace. the cup a friend gave me for Christmas says:



or three...!!!  (Models:  Hubby & Granddaughters, 12-31-08


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