Growing Up

I've decided it's time.  Now that I'm 70, I've been reflecting on
entries made in my old journals.  Come to find out my thoughts and
questions haven't changed much through the years.  I'm stuck.  Stuck
asking the same questions over and over, stuck in my habits, actions
and expectations.  That is not a good thing!  I should be growing,
changing, making progress.  Maturing.  But it seems to be one step
forward and ninety-nine steps right back to where I started.  I don't
learn a thing!  My beloved children, now forty-one and forty-four are
more wise in their thinking than I am.  My daughter writes that God
doesn't disappoint us, only life's circumstances do.  Having been
turned down for a barista job a few months ago and now seeing the help-
wanted ad in the paper again, she says, "If only they had hired
someone not qualified, but dependable, I'd have learned what there was
to learn and they wouldn't be looking for help so soon!"   My son
writes of 'the comforts of decay' and the 'beloved ailments of the
elderly.'  He remarks that 'runners run to cope with life's
uncertainties and to make sense of the senseless.' 

I'd been thinking about all this before our sermon on Sunday.  Then it
hit me right between the eyes.  Forgetting what's behind, pressing on,
eating solid food instead of Similac.  There was a statement at the
bottom of the sermon notes asking what God is challenging me to do in
this area.  The answer was loud and clear:  Grow up, Judy.  Replace
doubt with trust once and for all.  I'm still the light for your path
and I'll be hiding you in the palm of my hand.  The choice is yours.  
The results are mine.

Mountain Fox

My mountain friend sent me this picture.  She feeds her fox friends from her fingers.  How different our viewpoints!

Outfoxed

We thought those darling baby foxes, the ones who wrecked my bushes and stole garden gloves and generally created havoc, had grown up, traveled to Longmont, forgotten us.  Not so.  Recently two of them (I'm sure they are the same ones because they nodded amicably to me) curled up in my side yard for long naps.  And yesterday one curled up under my Chinese cherry bush, right outside my study window.  Red and bushy tailed, and I know if I could touch him, he'd be soft as butter.  But what if he is a she and I have to face six more darling baby foxes, the ones....

Journal entry: April 4, 1987

Yes, indeed. 1987. I think this is just as true today as it was then. What do you think? 

I feel UGLY today. When I'm having an ugly day, do others see me the
way I see myself? Do they see the clothes I'm wearing make my face
look like a jaundiced map of China? Are they aware that my
fingernails haven't been filed, my nail polish is three weeks old and
I forgot my deodorant this morning? Are they conscious of the fact
that even the nice hot shower, mega dose of mascara and bright red
lipstick haven't helped? Do they realize I've been letting my hair
grow out for five months and I've resembled the flying nun when it's
down or a skinned onion when it's up in a ponytail? Does everyone
observe these things? Now that I'm having more than one UGLY day a
week, four days ago I had my hair cut and layered.

No one noticed.