Do I Say Goodbye or Hello?

There is a strange calmness in the outside air this afternoon - no breeze to compliment the radiant sunshine and warm temperatures - and with it comes a voice that whispers, "take me while you can get me" as September draws swiftly to a close. Allow me a moment of melancholy as I bid "Farewell" to the spectacular September weather Indiana has enjoyed this year, and say "Hello" to the impending weeks preceding our long winter months.

The writer of Ecclesiastes tells us explicitly "To everything there is a season." Today my heart appears to be at odds with itself as I view not only the changing of seasons climate-wise, but also the changing of seasons in our personal lives.

While I process the changes taking place outdoors - tractors in the fields stirring up whirlwinds of dust as farmers harvest the crops, all the while ripping away the blazing color - I am aware of a greater change about to occur right in our own home. It arrives Monday . . . the day my husband begins working only part time.

During the 32 years we've been married, Steve has worked 40-70 hours per week depending on the needs of his employer. He has been an amazing worker highly valued wherever he labored. During these many hours of employment, I was blessed to be at home caring for our children and managing the household. It was an agreement we made early on in our marriage.

Come Monday we say "Hello" to a new agreement, a different routine - or no routine at all. It is in the midst of this huge change that I find myself quite set in my ways, and the new agreement feels strangely like a "Goodbye." This change seems oddly reminiscent of a move we made in 1993 from Central Indiana to our current home in Northeast Indiana. We left behind so many wonderful memories of family and friends, our home on W. Fair Oaks Drive, our church, and the only community we had ever known. With that move, that change, came grief along with excitement for what lay ahead. Through it all we had faith that it would all work out . . . and it did.

Even as I write today, I know the change before us will work out as well. It will take time and several seasons, tiny steps and a few stumbles, laughter and tears as we adjust and grow through the challenge. I do believe when God closes a door, He opens a window. Anyone out there who would like to pray for us during this transition please do. Pray we'll keep our eyes open to what God has in store for us as we say once again, "Goodbye" and "Hello."

Those Eyes

As a school bus driver for our local district, I am often called upon to offer correction to an occasional student who seems to enjoy pushing my buttons. One such student is a young lady in the 8th grade named Emma. She and her sister have been a constant source of stress for me since school began this year, and my patience has been running a little thin in this regard. A week or so ago I wrote a referral on her which necessitated she visit the principal's office. Needless to say she wasn't very happy with me.

One day this week Emma boarded the bus extremely agitated yelling quite loudly to her sister who sits half a bus length from her toward the rear of the bus. Her back was to me and she appeared to be super upset about something. By the looks on the other students' faces I could tell her language was less than appropriate. A 6th grade girl mouthed toward me "she's cussing!" When I called Emma by name she immediately went into defensive mode stating "I'm not cussing bus driver. If I was cussing, you would have heard me, right?" Due to the fact the bus was running and she was turned away from me, I did not personally hear her "cussing," and I told her so. However, I decided the next day I would talk with her before she boarded the bus in regard to the use of inappropriate language.

When Emma arrived at the bus the next afternoon, I stopped her in the parking lot saying I needed to talk with her briefly.
Wow! Was this wild child short -- something that can only be noticed when the bus driver is out of her seat. Only 14, dressed as skimpily as dress code allows and face adorned with thick makeup, she had an attitude that was less than cooperative. As she looked up at me I could tell she was not happy to be detained. I talked with her briefly about using inappropriate language which she quickly denied, and then it happened . . .

I saw her eyes. They were gorgeously piercing and profound. A thought came quickly to mind -- "This must be what Jesus sees. A young lady trying desperately to be noticed, to be cared about, to be loved." I was taken aback momentarily. I had seen those eyes before . . . where was it? And then I remembered . . . it was a painting I'd seen of Jesus with the same piercing eyes. Here they were before me on this girl's face.

The other bus engines started up, and looking directly into her eyes I said: "May I tell you . . . you have the most beautiful eyes?" She replied, "yes" and hurriedly entered the bus. I doubt I will ever look at her the same again.

God's Palette

September extends its glorious hand in Northeast Indiana this morning as the sun rises to paint a golden haze on the meadow. Voluptuous fields with colors abounding, rows and rows of crops in various stages of harvest, all serve as a reminder of God's never-ending palette of provision, creative in nature, plentiful in color, constantly changing.

Blogging

Today I decided if I was going to continue "blogging" I needed to find out just what a "blog" is, or isn't. In doing the research, I discovered it can be whatever the blogger wants it to be. A blog can be private, or it can be public. Because I long to have my writings published, I decided to go with "public." Past that I get the idea a blog is like a story or a diary, and it can be on any subject the writer chooses.

In my limited search I've found blogs that concern adoption, education, politics, parenting, missions, aviation, surfing just to name a few . . . and if there are any out there in regard to semi-retirement please contact me as my hubby and I have much to learn.

For instance, any advice on how many times a week (or heaven forbid, a day) is okay for a semi-retired couple to sit in the deck swing with a cup of coffee in hand? How about walks? Once per day, or twice? And fishing . . . once a week or more? Unless I hear otherwise we'll take our cues from that inner voice that says: "The sky's the limit. Take as much time as you want."

Last week my husband, Steve, took the "plunge" and signed up for Social Security.  This was not a decision made lightly as we spent the better part of 8 months researching S.S., revamping our budget (juggling would be a better term),  going back and forth, "should I? should I not? . . . over and over the figures again, trying to reach the "right" decision.  

It came to him first:  "Time is most important."  He's going to go to 20 hours per week at Home Depot Oct. 1st!

It came to me the next day:  "We don't have to have all the answers.  We can't. This is unfamiliar territory."   Thus the name of our blog.

Join us, won't you, as we move through this "unfamiliar territory" where our main goal is to spend more time together in these our "Golden Years" of semi-retirement.   I have no doubt there will be fun-filled days ahead, and a few bumps and scrapes along the way.  But, isn't that what life is all about anyway? Good times and those not so good . . . growing together, trusting God to make a way, and knowing when we can't trace His hand we can trust His heart.