New and Improved

Posted on February 2, 2012 by Margaret

Back in 1971 when I was in grad school, one of my classes dealt with the legal ramifications of advertising claims. For example, no label could contain the word “new” or “improved” unless actual product change was measurable.

Companies worked hard to alter their merchandise just enough to claim they were new or improved, since advertising studies showed buyers were positively influenced by those words. But does new or improved always mean better? What’s wrong with a successful product staying the same?

On a recent shopping trip, new and improved became the cause for frustration. I don’t drink much coffee, so when I buy it, I spring for the good kind. But while standing in my regular grocery store in the coffee aisle, I suddenly had trouble finding my usual favorite. Eventually I saw why: new and improved packaging. Starbucks had forced me to spend extra time finding what I wanted, in the name of progress. Very irritating.

The next day I was at Walgreens in search of my calcium gummies and couldn’t find them, either. When I asked for help, the clerk pointed and said, “They’re right in front of you.”

“No,” I said. “They’re not,” I’d just spent several minutes impatiently scanning the shelves for the familiar kiwi green lid.

She reached for one of the bottles, but I shook my head. “That’s not it.”

“Yes it is,” she said, “just with a new label.”

She was right. New and improved. Maybe.

Is my reluctance to appreciate change a function of getting old? Young people see change as adventure. The unknown is a happy chance for a new beginning.

But is there such a thing as too much change?

We widows have been asked to embrace extreme change, a new single life that usually isn’t improved. How are we supposed to cope with that? God’s answer, like the answers to all questions, is in the Bible. We see he hasn’t changed from eternity past until now, and he’ll always be exactly like he is, because a way to make him new or improved doesn’t exist. He’s already perfect, just the way he is. So does he want us to follow his example and shun change?

The answer is no.

His Word says he’s eager to see change in us. When we embrace his plan of salvation, our change becomes radical. He makes us into new and improved people, bringing us closer to being who he intended us to be in the first place. So, despite his reality of never needing to change, he’s all for change in us.

As for all that new packaging? I’m trying to change my attitude.

“If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

Frightening Footprints

Posted on January 30, 2012 by Margaret

We widows like to tell ourselves we’re strong and aren’t afraid to live alone. But during a night when we can’t sleep, fear creeps around the edges of our minds, and we wish our men were still lying next to us. Not that they would have always known what to do, but two heads are usually better than one.

Last night as I was putting my head on the pillow, I heard an unfamiliar thump coming from downstairs. It was almost 1:00 am, too late for company, and Jack had been asleep in his doggie bed for an hour before I’d gone upstairs.

Unwilling to let myself get spooked by what might be nothing, I prayed, and God quickly reminded me he doesn’t ever try to scare us and can protect us from fright. I decided I’d abandon myself to his care, no matter what the noise was, and shortly thereafter fell asleep.

This morning as Jack and I were returning from a walk, we decided to use the front door instead of our usual back, and I got a shocker. In an inch of snow from yesterday, there were mysterious footprints walking up my front steps. They gave me a start, and I froze. Had someone tried to get into the house last night? Was that what I’d heard?

As I studied the prints, I noticed they had an interesting grid pattern. And then it hit me. The mysterious footprints were mine, steps made last night after walking Jack. And suddenly I felt foolish.

But this is how it goes with widows. As we practice living alone, we’re breaking new ground we never wanted to cover, and runaway thinking is one blip away from common sense. God knows this and has prepared a slew of promises for our use when panic hits. Sometimes he even lays the groundwork ahead of time for nights like last night.

For example, yesterday morning Louisa shared a valuable verse with me from Isaiah: “You [Lord] will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!” (26:3) Naturally, then, those same words rushed into my head when I was feeling vulnerable.

Our God is practical. He promises to deliver us when we need it, and when we’re nervous, he guarantees he’ll calm us if we ask him. That’s true for everybody, not just widows. He doesn’t want any of us to live on edge but does understand how emotions can get in the way of sound reasoning. It’s comforting to know he’s always got a battle plan in order and wants to see us victorious over nervousness and fear, whenever it strikes.

As for that strange noise during the night? After a thorough house inspection, I’ve decided I’ll never know. Maybe it was God simply giving me one more opportunity to trust him.

“If you make the Lord your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you.” (Psalm 91:9-10a)

Angelic Sculpture

Posted on January 16, 2012 by Margaret

Snow angels are made in several ways, and last week, after a good blizzard, we finally got to make the first ones of the season. Jack has his own angel-making method, throwing himself into the snow on his back, wriggling and squirming upsidedown. A child uses other ideas. She lies flat on her back, arcing arms and legs, then trying to stand up without making a boot-print on her angel. As for me, I like the idea of building a snowman-angel. And a true artist can carve an angel from a giant brick of snow.

The morning the blizzard came, while brushing my teeth I was wondering how much shoveling I’d have to do and how much time it would take. Then I heard the melodic sounds of a snow blower, and before I could even rinse my mouth out, I spotted my next-door-neighbor at work on my driveway.

Bob always has a positive word for everyone, and he let me know, once I got outside, that he thought the storm was beautiful. More impressive to me, though, was his unflagging determination to help the widow next door. He and his wife Linda have come to my rescue more than once, and that morning it happened again.

For the rest of that day, every time I looked outside, seeing Bob’s snow blowing lines on my driveway was a fresh blessing. Later, while thanking God for these neighbors, the Lord reminded me of the way Nate and I originally ended up next door to them.

We’d been casually looking in the area for several years, having outgrown the tiny summer cottage my sister and I shared with our spouses and 14 children. We knew we needed a second house but were frustrated with the unavailability of cottages in our price bracket. When a house came on the market at the right price, the location, size or condition wasn’t right.

Then one day, at the end of another unsuccessful hunt, the realtor said, “I heard a rumor another house was about to come on the market. Nothing’s official, and we don’t have the key yet, but let me make a call.”

That turned out to be the one. And when Nate and I bought it in 2000, we envisioned decades of family use and an eventual retirement for the two of us. Neither of us expected widowhood, but of course God knew it was coming and was preparing an optimum setting. The unlikely timing of the house “about to” come on the market with all the right features was the beginning, but most significant was his placing us next to our compassionate neighbors.