Catching Up

March 25, 2017

Day 82: The Strength Of Old Age:

“Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered—how fleeting my life is. You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand. My entire lifetime is just a moment to you; at best, each of us is but a breath.” —Psalm 39: 4-5

When I read the first line of this scripture I thought, No. Don’t remind me. Though there is great truth to Anderson’s lesson today, I am not particularly fond of it. He basically talks about a patient of his named Marty who was beginning to feel his age. Each time he tried to add physical activity to his life, he injured himself. “At sixty, there seems to be diminishing return to my efforts,” Marty said. “I go for a run, and my feet ache for two weeks. I lift weights, and my shoulders lock up…” I am beginning to be able to relate to Marty. Now that I am 45, almost 46, I can already feel my body beginning to slow down. I don’t have the stamina that I had even just two years ago. I do okay, just not as well as I used to. Dr. Anderson’s advice is to embrace the aging process, thank God for the time that we have had, and go gently into that good night.  Well, sort of.  He suggests that we remember, “It was the slow and steady tortoise who ultimately finished the race.”

Day 83: War And Peace:

"You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!” —Isaiah 26:3

Anderson’s anecdote for “War and Peace” is about a patient of his named Kari.  She came to Dr. Anderson because she was having trouble sleeping at night. She said, “My mind keeps running over things that I should have done, should be doing, or have done wrong. I keep obsessing about this or that. I’ve tried counting sheep, but then I obsess about how the sheep look. I have so many crazy thoughts running through my mind.” I kind of chuckled a bit at the obsessing over “how the sheep look” because I could relate to that.  When asked if she had a habit of “checking, double-checking, and maybe even triple-checking the same thing” she said, “How did you know?” I can relate to that too; however, unlike Kari, I am not (to the best of my knowledge) bipolar. I do not have seasons “with no energy and feelings of doom or dread.” I would not call the moments of my life when I have been low on energy and high on doom and dread, as “seasons.” My moments do not last that long, but I do have times where I feel “overly energetic,” and highly productive even if I have not slept well for several days. So, in some ways I can relate to Kari, but I am grateful that I do not experience the exact same things that she does. Luckily, Dr. Anderson was able to prescribed Kari medication and she was back to feeling normal again.

Day 84: Bringing Heaven Down To Earth:

“Your unfailing love is as high as the heavens. Your faithfulness reaches the clouds.” —Psalm 57:10

I don’t know why, but lately when I read the Psalms, I am finding it hard to take them seriously or be moved by them, at least not very deeply. Without even looking, I can tell when scriptures are from the Psalms. They have a distinctive tone to them. I feel as if it wrong to say that, but there it is.

All of that aside, I enjoyed learning more about Anderson as he shared how as a boy he would look up at the clouds and dream about becoming a pilot so he could “leave the bounds of earth and reach out and touch the face of God.”  I remember having similar feelings. Not necessarily about becoming a pilot, but definitely about seeing the face of God. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Anderson was not able to become a pilot.  He failed the eye exam. Even though he was disappointed, “God was faithful” and “started a new work in [Anderson’s] soul.”  Anderson says, (I love this part) “God revealed to [him] that heaven is not some faraway place beyond the clouds. Rather it is a very real place that stretches back to us here on earth. We don’t have to run toward heaven and eternity because heaven is much closer than we realize. The veil between this world and the next is thin. We don’t have to run toward heaven because heaven walks alongside us here and now. We are much closer to heaven than most people think. Our last breath here will be our first breath there.”

I love that! I am fond of the image of a veil between worlds. Perhaps it caters to the child within who would have loved to have a secret passageway to another world, like in Narnia or in The Magicians. Walk through this door or this wardrobe or this thin curtain and…   When I was a sophomore, in my high school creative writing class, I wrote a short story (horrible, I might add) about crossing into another world by entering a waterfall. I don’t remember much of the plot, but I can still see the forest I had created. When I was growing up in Rhode Island, I used to play in the forest from sun up until sun down, crafting forts and imaginary worlds. It was my heaven.

Besides the whole veil between worlds, I also like the idea that “our last breath here will be our first breath there.” It’s like no time will have passed at all. We simply slip from this world to the next.  I’m not sure if that is entirely true. I’ve heard things to the contrary. I suppose we will never know until we take our last breath.