Ready to Live to One Hundred?

By Sue Edwards

My husband and I recently attended a seminar on how to prepare for retirement. Neither of us wants to retire any time soon, but with economic conditions what they are, we hear over and over to sock money away for the future. What I remember most about the seminar was an astounding statistic. Our instructor told us that insurance tables predict that a healthy baby girl born today is projected to live as long as one hundred and twenty years!

    

My mind immediately turned to ministry with women. It's in my DNA. Are we preparing women to live that long? To take care of loved ones who live that long? Is the church aware of the tidal wave of change that an aging population will mean? I don't think so.

    

I decided to look for support of this outrageous claim. I learned that in 1900, less than five percent of Americans were over 65, but the percent of older adults has steadily increased. In 2009 they represented almost 13 percent and by 2030 the projection is almost 20 percent. In 2006, there were 73,674 persons 100 years old or older. That number is expected to mushroom in the decades ahead. Yes, we are heading toward a world where a centurion won't be that exceptional, and most of them will probably be women!

    

If patterns hold, women will be the largest group effected. Women are poorer. In 2006 the median income per month of a man 65 or older was $1958, but for women it was $1134. This means that half of the older women had an income of less than $1134 to live on. Women live longer. Women, by in large, are the caregivers of older folk. These changing demographics of the United States (as well as other places e.g. Europe, parts of Asia) will have dramatic effects on all facets of culture and society, but certainly more on women than any other group. How should the church prepare and respond?

    

First, I commit to talk and think about growing older differently. I commonly complain to younger women about the downside of "maturity", leaving a negative impression. I need to stop for their sake and mine. I tend to think of ministry years left, forgetting that Goethe finished Faust, Michelangelo completed the dome of St Peter's, and Cervantes wrote Don Quixote long after their 65th birthday. If we practice self-care now and later, most of us will be productive far into the golden years. I commit to stop worrying about being alone or sidelined, and adopt a positive mindset.

    

Second, I need to be more proactive in preparing myself and others. How can we help women live full years for Jesus even as centurions, or as long as our dear Savior might give us? Brainstorm with me about what kinds of ministries would accomplish that goal?

Who Are Your BFF's?

By Lisa Littlewood

As I inch my way further into my thirties, I realize that I just might be getting a little too old to use acronyms such as BFF. You know, that acronym that teenage girls like to use as a secret language to communicate in a semi-elusive way that they are, in fact, “best friends forever.”

As a young girl, relationships could loosely be based on things as simple as wardrobe preferences or an affinity for the same movies. These days I’m looking for women who will be gracious enough to not judge me on said wardrobe (because they understand how hard it was to get out of the house with small children in the first place!) and who might offer an encouraging thought or scripture reference to brighten my day.

My true friends, my “best” friends in the last decade, have been the women who have baked muffins, brought them over and sat on my kitchen floor with me on a particularly difficult day several months into new motherhood (true story). They are the women who have sent meaningful cards to brighten a hard week or who have sent emails of encouragement when it comes to using God-given gifts for a bigger purpose.

They are the women who know when to ask if I should be taking on one more thing and yet somehow also know when I am shying away from something I should be trying because of my own fears or insecurities. They are the women who are able to ask the tough questions and offer the right advice.

They are the women whose addition to my life, even when life seems overly full, seem to make the fullness easier to bear.

As I look back over the last decade of my life, through the many changes and new stages and even new places, as I ponder at times where it is all going and why the road looks different than I had expected, one thing seems to be a constant. Even when I am unable to see clearly how God is directing me, he has always provided incredible friends-strong women, encouraging women, brave women, to help me along the way.

When I think about it, maybe that is all I needed. In her book Cold Tangerines Shauna Niequist speaks often of the importance of friendship in her life. “Friendship is acting out God’s love for people in tangible ways,” she says. “We were made to represent the love of God in each other’s lives, so that each person we walk through life with has a more profound sense of God’s love for them. We get to remind one another about the bigger, more beautiful picture that we can’t always see from where we are.”  

Hmm. Now I can see God didn’t want me to see clearly on my own, but to see things through someone else. Friendship is about teaching us that we are only capable of so much on our own, but of so much more together.

Now that is something to BFF about.

Lisa Littlewood is a freelance writer from Buffalo, N.Y. who has a heart for writing about how God uses imperfect people to accomplish his perfect will. Her articles have appeared in Buffalo Rising, Thrive Buffalo, Bay State Parent magazine, Unite magazine and The Buffalo News. She also blogs about faith, writing and life as a mom at www.littlewritermomma.com.

Surviving The Silence: How to Help

By Lesa Engelthaler

God was silent. I could not feel His presence. And this was different-this time I had been walking with him, yet it seemed like He moved.

For those with friends suffering such a “dark night,” I have some suggestions.

- Avoid platitudes.

The standard reply I received was, “Just remember that Moses had to wander for forty years in the desert.” Or “If it feels like God is far away, guess who moved?” More helpful replies were, “Wow, that sucks,” or “I am there right now.” Better yet was loving, silent presence.

- Explore alternative ways to “do church.” Where two or more gather in His name, Christ is present. Meeting with a few friends ministered to me far more than Sunday morning church services where I felt like a spectator.

- Encourage different practices from the usual. For me that meant exploring silence, solitude, kneeling by my bed for prayer, and attending a silent retreat.

- Recommend a spiritual director. I needed someone who understood spiritual formation, not merely a therapist. My spiritual director listened without judgment to my raging, and prayed over me.

- Suggest new authors. Eugene Peterson’s classic, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction was a welcome companion.And prayer from the Book of Common Prayer reminded me that others had walked the same path. Most helpful was the honesty of old saints: St. John of the Cross, St. Ignatius, and Thomas Merton.

Eugene Peterson’s grace-filled words assure that God will hold onto us:

“All the persons of faith I know are sinners, doubters, uneven performers. We are secure not because we are sure of ourselves but because we trust that God is sure of us. Neither our feelings of depression nor the facts of suffering nor the possibilities of defection are evidence that God has abandoned us.”

Sitting Next to Jesus

By Joanna Foote 

We often see prayer as a way to go to God with our uncertainty and surrender our concerns and the problems of the world at his feet. But what if prayer is also a way to enter into the overwhelming reality that is our world? Perhaps, when we pray, we are stepping deeper into the world with God’s eyes and God’s heart.

I have found myself on my knees quite a bit recently - in part for clarity in my leadership, in part for more certainty as my future creeps closer. Mostly because I have spent six months of the last year walking alongside people in poverty as I worked in migrant shelters - first with deported migrants on the US/Mexico border and later with Central Americans in southern Mexico. So yes, I have plenty of concerns to surrender to God, but also many invitations to experience deeper compassion.

We could just pray for our own issues and our personal concerns and the problems our close friends present to us. Prayer can also be an extension of the work that we do and the life that we live - an effort to bring God in to our vocation and calling. And those prayers are important. But such attitudes make prayer a one-way street in which we give up our concerns to God and continue on with our work. From that perspective, prayer is a self-help tool to bring us joy and peace.

I’m discovering another side of prayer. Prayer is not just bringing God into my life. Instead, it is entering more deeply into God’s heart for the world.

Entering into God’s heart means slowly facing the uncertain and overwhelming reality of the world, which we can easily ignore if we just focus on our little corner. Sometimes when I pray, I picture myself beside Jesus, looking out at the world and seeing what he sees. I see migrants jumping freight trains. I see people dying in the desert. I see violence and insecurity. I see broken families and loneliness.

I cannot resolve all of these problems-or even some of them. But when I sit with Jesus and look at the world, I start to understand his love for people. I start to see how intense the suffering is. I appreciate the gravity of God’s promises and the necessity of hope in them. Perhaps this form of prayer motivates us into action or invites us to support a new part of God’s creation or new group of God’s people. Or perhaps this prayer simply invites us to more prayer where we can humbly admire the work that God is doing and, through our confidence in God’s love, pray for an end to injustice.

So we pray. Not just to resolve our own insecurities and powerlessness, or to address a specific cause. We pray because when we do, God just might share his vision for the world.

Joanna Foote is learning to see the face of Jesus in the stranger as she volunteers through service and research with immigrant communities. She will graduate next year from Georgetown University with a degree in international culture and politics focusing on migration.

Behind the Fence

By Stacy Voss

Every day, a small boy watched as we played soccer in front of his house in Juarez, Mexico. He leaned against the short fence at the front of his yard, watching our every move. As we kicked the ball, we'd yell over for him to join us, but he'd simply smile, cast a glance down, and then nod. We'd call over to him again as we went into a church to begin Vacation Bible School, but he'd still decline. All through VBS, he'd stay at his fence, listening to the music and the stories from afar, while missing out on the crafts, snacks and games. This went on for weeks. Finally a co-worker walked the few steps across the road to extend a more personal invitation. What she discovered shocked us all. Little Damian had a cast going from his waist down each leg to his toes.

After weeks of inviting him, I finally knew why he never came over. It became so obvious, but before that moment it had been hidden behind a fence.

I had a similar experience last month. A friend accidentally hurt me. I knew it wasn't deliberate, but it hurt nonetheless. I couldn't shake the pain and didn't want it to affect our friendship, so I sent her an e-mail telling her how I felt. Her response left me speechless.

           

After apologizing, she described events happening to her and her family, things that left her with little energy or desire to even get out of bed. I'd known only a portion of it, and that part would have been enough to put me into a deep depression. What I didn't know until that moment was that there was more-much, much more. Her normally serene life now had all the makings for an outlandish soap opera.

           

She let me see behind the fence, and in so doing, let me see the real reason for inadvertently hurting me.

           

Proverbs 9:6 says, "Walk in the way of understanding." If I hadn't known what drove my friend to do what she did, I might have walked away from our friendship or pretended things were okay when I knew they weren't. I was only able to walk in the way of understanding by learning what really was happening in her life.

           

Damian and my friend showed me that many times the things we see are just the surface. There usually is a much deeper reason why someone does or says something, or even a reason why they don't. They also taught me that I have a choice: I can judge based on what I see, or I can take the time to get a glimpse behind the fence.

Stacy Voss is an author and speaker known for her ability to bring Biblical characters and principals to life in a way that affects our daily living. Connect with her at www.EyesOfYourHeart.com.

Friendable

By Elisa Morgan

WANTED: Female Friend. Age: Less (as in age-less). Location: Present. Availability: When needed. Skills: Non-judgmental listening ears and voice given to both constructive critique and compliments. Pay: Reciprocity.

On the subject of friendship, I’m very clear: I know what I want in a friend. That’s easy. Harder – for me - is being friendable. Approachable. Open to the new. Willing to do the work of investing from scratch.

During a break at a women’s event, I’m lunching with the leadership committee. I respond politely to their inquiries, “Tell us about yourself, Elisa.” Where do I start? I could wade in and begin with the story of my parents’ divorce when I was five, my mother’s struggle with alcohol, my uber-vigilant life as a child and adolescent. That would take too long. And require too much energy. I still have another presentation ahead.

Instead, I could skim the surface of “me”. I speak, and write. Yep, I led MOPS International for twenty years. Great husband. One super duper grandchild. Two grown-yet-still-growing kids. Uh Oh. Suddenly I’ve dipped into the deep again.

I paddle back to the shore.

How do I open myself to friendship in such a way that I stay safe and yet risk knowing and being known?

Time for some honest self-examination. How badly do I want to be known? Honest answer: it depends. On my mood, my current circumstances, my schedule, my needs. But friendship doesn’t wait to form just when we are in the mood or need it. It’s formed in the daily and the dramatic so that when we need it, it’s there.

Deeper now. What am I doing to risk being known? Hmmmm. I share. I do. I open up. In fact, I can be honest to a fault. So much spilled out so that others sit staring and wondering how they can ever connect with my messes. That is, until they realize they relate. By that moment, the conversation has moved on.

But I also hold back. I busy myself with busyness. Busy busy busyness. “I’m gone all week!” “I could fit in a breakfast – oh but I have a meeting right after!” Three-minute voicemails serve as catch-up “conversations”.

I want friends. But how friendable am I willing to be?

For the rest of this Weekly ReFill click HERE and enjoy the My Fill Column in the Friend O Mine digizine. And tell your friends – be FRIENDABLE!

Friendship

By Kay Wyma

"Only your real friends will tell you when your face is dirty." ~ Sicilian proverb

"Mrs. Wyma?"

"Yes?"

"Um ... there's a hole in your pants."

My daughter, standing next to her truth-telling friend, slightly gasps. Together they try to stuff their snickers. I put my hand back to check. And sure enough, I had a rip in my pants. Not some slight dainty thing on a seam. No, a nice 2-inch flap on my left bum. It surprised me. Not that I'd have a hole (unfortunately I'm no stranger to wardrobe malfunction) but that an 11-year-old would be honest enough to tell an adult something potentially awkward, or dare I say, embarrassing.

But she did. And did so matter-of-factly.

This child's honesty revealed a lot about our relationship. She cared enough to tell me something that no one else had been brave enough to broach (I'm sure the hole had been there most of the day). Then, without judgment, she was sweet to open the door to laughter. Because really, what else can you do? Life is too short to cry about things like pant holes.

This child is not only my daughter's friend; but, as determined by her actions, she is also mine. The best friendships are based on honesty, authenticity, openness, trust and compassion-all of which we crave. But rarely do we feel safe enough to embrace them. Constantly worried about being accepted or scared of being hurt, we shy away from the very things that can knit us together. No matter the age, we fight feeling excluded, snubbed, ignored, and overlooked as we try to trust.

I often find myself telling my kids: "Friends aren't perfect. They can hurt us just like we can hurt them. Sometimes it's intentional, most of the time it's not. There are two things to remember: 1) If we were meant to be alone in the world, God would have stopped with Adam. 2) Lean into the anchor of complete acceptance and safety we have in Christ so you can be the best authentic friend you can be without worry of being tossed aside or laughed at. You've got The King watching over you. So, don't shy away from telling your friend the hard stuff or loving them when you're jealous. That's what real friends do."

Of course, ninety percent of the time, at this point, I've already gotten an eye-roll, but it's worth it. If the message doesn't stick with them, maybe it will stick with me.

So walking out of Fuddrucker's yesterday, it warmed my heart when one of my kids pointed out some lettuce caught in my teeth. As the rest of my brood walked up, we did it for each other. We were a mess. Literally.

Well, you have some pepper.

Oh, and there's cookie on your face.

Thanks (side whisper) your shorts need zipping.

To top it off, my ten-year-old boy squinted up at me and squealed, "Ewwww!" Then, while running away and pointing back at the stubborn lettuce remnant still lodged in my teeth, he added, "That's SOOOOO gross! (fake gag, fake gag) I think I'm going to barf!"

Well, at least he's my friend. Let's hope he can temper his friendship with couth someday . . . soon.

Kay Wyma, mother of five, is writes themoatblog.com so moms of adolescents & teens don't have to walk the road alone and is author of Cleaning House, A Mother's Twelve-Month Experiment to Rid Her Home of Youth Entitlement