Dear Soul. . . . A Note From Jan.

THANK YOU ALL for all your good wishes, wit and wisdom on CaringBridge, email, snail mail, texts and calls. What a birthday! You know how to crank up the joy and turn down the years, from my perspective at least!

Alas, out for a meal with a friend who announced to the world that we were celebrating MY birthday. “She is 75!” There were no protesters. As in, no one said,”You’ve got to be kidding me!  You couldn’t be over 60!” or 65!  70?  Not even a lousy 74!

Oh, well.  I woke up this morning (that’s a good sign), got dressed and grabbed a psalm with a cuppa coffee and a donut. Now I have to go work out! Crime and punishment. Like Psalm 139 says,  God knows…”You know when I sit and when I rise…You are familiar with all my ways.” That’s not always good news.

God knows life’s not always a party. Sometimes it’s just so hard. Just ask the Biden family…or Alice, Pat, Sherry, Robin, Jim, Joanna or Nancy. Life’s so tough that sometimes even a donut looks like a life preserver. Toss me a ring or two.

Last night it hit like a nor’easter. Tears raining down on the pillow I hugged. Jud gone when I arrived home from a fun trip with my friend. No point waiting up. He wasn’t coming home. Ever.

So I sobbed out all I wanted to tell him. About all of you and your kindness and generosity. About the thoughtfulness of OUR children and grandchildren..always ours. No them without him. Last night, Heather called to hear about my time in Maine with Gail, then said she wished she could talk to her Dad…needed wisdom.  I said, “Me, too.” That’s how it goes.

Smiles and sobs. The psalm I read this morning  read, “Why are you down in the dumps, DEAR Soul?” Made me think of the painter John Constable again (told in baccalaureate address), who asked his son, ”How shall we mend it, my DEAR?” Unthinkable, really! That God, who could throw every name imaginable at me, would call me DEAR and want to tend and mend me. Same’s true for you.

So there’s a NET in the bottom of the pit of despair. God’s words and actions. Your words and deeds. Woven together to lift in love.

“Why are you down in the dumps, DEAR SOUL? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God—soon I’ll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face.  He’s my God.” (Psalm 43 in the Message)

“Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” (Psalm 43 NIV)

Sounds like the psalmist is pulling himself up by the scruff of the neck. Sometimes I can do that.  Not always.  That’s where the net comes in…and, most of all, the God of Grace who this morning seemed to call me, “Dear Soul.”

Not smiling, at the moment, but resting in and trusting the God who calls me DEAR. And for whatever days God gives me, I’m grateful, even if I look my age or worse. Lord, have mercy.