Category Archives: Aging

The Price of Commitment

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Sundays aren’t as upsetting as they used to be. Watching a husband put his arm around his wife or share a hymnal doesn’t bring tears like it did a year ago, and last Sunday I even felt sincere delight watching the senior couple directly in front of me. As the congregation sang a rousing hymn, they not only shared the hymnal, they shared something else.

The husband, as he sang, occasionally glanced at his wife’s face. Every so often she looked up at him, and they shared a knowing smile. Part of the hymn they sang from memory, to each other, face-to-face. Once he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. As he did, she leaned toward him slightly, just enough to communicate acceptance and love.

On the hymn’s 3rd verse, these two 70-somethings standing side-by-side, began slowly swaying together, left and right, to the hymn’s cadence. It was so subtle an observer glancing at the congregation wouldn’t have noticed, but since they were right in front of me, I did. And it was charming.

Two things popped into my head: (1) gratitude that I wasn’t crying while witnessing this marital harmony, and (2) when one of them dies, the other will suffer. But that’s the natural consequence of a good marriage. When the time comes, even though tears will flow, the one left behind won’t wish away the years they had together to spare the pain of separation when it ends.

Most of life’s valuable commitments put us at risk for sadness, even sharp, agonizing pain: a happy marriage faces eventual widowhood and loneliness; parenthood brings incredible joy but also the misery of saying goodbye … over and over again; even taking on a family pet includes knowing we’ll one day have to bury it. Our world is full of opportunities to commit, each one involving a sacrifice, a risk, or both.

All except one.

The most important commitment any of us can ever make includes no price to pay at the end of it, and that’s our commitment to Christ. The risk and sacrifice for the greatest treasure on earth was all made by him, not us. Why he would ever agree to do what he did in order to get us is beyond figuring out. With all our imperfections and sins, we know we’re not worth the sacrifice he had to make, but apparently he thought we were. Mindboggling.

Unlike at the end of our human commitments, most of which finish with a goodbye, the final result of a commitment to Christ is an eternal hello and a life so unique and fresh we don’t now have the ability to picture it. The commitments of this world all come to an end, but signing on with Jesus is a forever partnership.

This morning, back in church, I scanned the congregation for the loving couple I’d seen the week before, but they weren’t there. When I asked, I learned they’d gone on a long trip to Europe. A second honeymoon? No, just making the most of an ongoing commitment to one another.

“At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now! The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” (2 Corinthians 5:16-17)

Happy Birthday!

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While driving home from Sunday brunch, Louisa, Birgitta, Nelson, and I had a conversation about whether or not time exists in heaven, in days, months, or years. Scripture includes several references to time, which then led us to talk of birthdays. Nate’s birth date was last Saturday, and we wondered aloud if annual celebrations have continued in his new community.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “That’s an earthly thing.” (Everybody knows people don’t get old in heaven.)

But Louisa said, “I think the opposite, that birthdays do continue. But maybe instead of celebrating the day you were born, they celebrate the day you began, which is the day you were conceived.”

While we were thinking about that, Birgitta came up with another scenario. “Maybe it’s the day you arrive in heaven. Maybe that’s the date they celebrate.”

Then Nelson added, “You mean a person’s death date.”

“Yes.”

Death date = birth date? Quite possible.

Later in the afternoon we were still pondering our birthday party question. Nephew Andrew said, “Maybe they’re celebrating birthdays linked to the day someone becomes a Christian.” That made sense as we remembered Scripture’s reference to being born again.

Andrew’s wife Kim offered yet another idea. “A birthday party is all about one person, and that much focused attention seems a little selfish for heaven.”

But then Louisa said, “Maybe the only important birthday will be Jesus’. And what date would that be? Probably the day he rose from the dead, which is when spiritual birth dates became available to the rest of us.”

Who knew birthdays could get so complicated?

We didn’t come to any conclusions, but thinking about heaven is something most of us like to do. Sometimes I feel like I have one foot in this world and one in the next, which isn’t a bad way to live. I don’t want to be so heavenly minded I’m no earthly good, but it’s a nice idea to live each day with an awareness that the life around us isn’t all there is. Each of us has a “some day” when this familiar world will recede and eternity will engulf us.

So how do we prepare for that?

We remind ourselves, when trouble comes, that heaven’s trouble-free existence is real and will one day be ours. And when everything is going fine, we marvel that something even better is coming. Then, between the difficult periods and the good times, we speak gratitude to God for planning a spectacular future for us. And while we wait, we practice patience, knowing he’ll transition us when our new home is ready.

I’m not sure about all this birthday business, but I do know one thing: if life in heaven includes any birthday parties, it’s going to sound pretty amazing when legions of angels join in on the “Happy Birthday” song.

“In his great mercy he has given us new birth… into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you.” (1 Peter 1:3-4)

Dear Nate,

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Yesterday was your birthday, or at least it would have been, had you lived. You died a few weeks after we turned 64 (ten days apart), and this year I turned 67 without you.

Remember how we always celebrated together? The kids would plan a “double-whammy” party, complete with a treasure hunt for our gifts. Their enthusiasm rubbed off on us, and before we knew it we were playing all their silly games with gusto.

The birthday cakes they concocted tasted pretty good coming from such young bakers, but of course even earthly angel food cake could never match whatever heavenly food you’re enjoying now. Maybe you don’t have to eat at all, but my bet is you’re partaking of all kinds of delectable goodies.

Since you left us, life has changed considerably for our family. Four new grandchildren have been added, with another due 8 weeks from today. I wonder what you’d think about Birgitta’s unplanned baby. Although we’re predicting a mix of happiness and struggle, you probably see it differently. Since you live free of calendar dictatorship and the bondage of the clock, maybe you’ve already met this 7th grandchild. While we wait, you may know.

I think often about you, sometimes every hour, always wondering what you’re doing. This morning I was remembering Jesus’ departure from earth to heaven, relating to the disappointment of the disciples who loved him so much. He said, “You can’t go where I’m going,” and they must have been miserable, wondering how they were going to live without him.

I know just how they felt.

When you left the earth, I couldn’t accompany you either. But Jesus encouraged his disappointed disciples by saying, “If you loved me, you would be glad that I am going to the Father.” (John 14:28) As unhappy as I was when you first left, I can now genuinely say, “Because I love you, I’m glad you’ve gone to the Father.” Besides, my turn will come, just as it did for all the disciples.

You probably know that these days I’m not blogging about you nearly as much on my web site. Sometimes I feel funny about that, but it’s happening because my heart is feeling much better. I rarely think about your cancer anymore but dwell more on our good times together. Paging through old photo albums this week has made me appreciate you more than ever, and I wish I had thanked you more often, when I had the chance.

I’m glad I can write this letter while thinking about you and your special day, August 18. Although you’ll never again go on a treasure hunt for your presents, surely that doesn’t matter now. These days every minute of every day is found-treasure for you.

“I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord.” (Isaiah 45:3)