"For I know the plans I have for you...

In my last post, I mentioned my March 31 retirement and promised a bit more on that. Four months isn't too long to wait to fulfill a promise, is it? Both retirement and this summer's 40-year high school reunion offered me opportunity for reflection. How in the world did I get from leaving Texas City High School in 1972 to retiring in Utah in 2012?

When I graduated high school, I knew I wanted to attend college. But, I really didn't have a particular field of study in mind. Business? Education? Nursing? I'd like to say that I spent much time in prayer over what to do. However, I don't remember doing that. Just sort of filled out college applications and decided on business as a major. Then I changed schools and majors. Still not much prayer involved. This time it was journalism. That decision was driven primarily by Tommy, my then boyfriend and now husband. He was attending the University of Texas, so I transferred there. And he thought business wasn't the best major, so I switched to journalism. I was editor of my high school newspaper, so this wasn't completely ridiculous. I graduated with a Bachelor of Journalism degree in 1975, two weeks before I married Tommy and we reported for his first Air Force assignment to Del Rio, Texas. And the journalism degree got put on the back burner. No newspaper or TV station there.

We moved to Utah in 1980, and I went to work as a secretary in a local college. The Air Force took us to Germany for three years and back to Utah in 1988, where I returned to the same college as a secretary in a different department. I loved both those jobs and was content. Then, out of the blue, I was offered a job with the Utah-Idaho Southern Baptist Convention in September of 1990. My pastor and good friend had taken a job there earlier in the year, and he mentioned my journalism degree to the Executive Director of the convention. Turns out, the convention was in need of someone to edit the newspaper. I agonized over what to do. Made a pros and cons list. And turned down the job. I loved the job at the college and the people I worked for. But, the minute I hung up the phone, I knew saying no was a mistake. So, I called back and accepted the position.

For 19 years, I was blessed to work in Christian ministry, 12 years full-time with the state convention; and; after a short break, 7 years part-time with the Salt Lake Baptist Association. I did the same job in both places, Business Services Director and Editor of the paper. Fancy titles for paying the bills and putting together a newsletter.  All because of a journalism degree I thought I'd never use.

UISBC and SLBA coworkers

God knew how to get me from high school to retirement. Even when I was too self-absorbed to ask, God directed every step to bring me to exactly where He wanted me to be. Jeremiah 29:11 tells us that God has a plan for us. I am so thankful that He guided me to mine. And grew my faith. And blessed me beyond measure.

I can't wait to see what He has in store for me in retirement!

My Sweet Husband

March was a CRAZY, BUSY month.  I retired March 31 (more on that in later blogs).  My replacement started March 12 so she could have some one-on-one training before I left.  Being the OCD person I am, I wanted everything to be perfect for her. And, yes I realize that is impossible; but I still wanted her to have the best experience possible in the start of her new job.  So, I put together a handbook of instructions.  Being the procrastinator I am, I didn't start this until late February.  Get the picture?  Working in the office six hours a day--then coming home and spending four to five hours creating pages for this handbook.  That didn't leave much time for anything else.

Here's where my sweet husband comes in.  He never uttered a word of complaint about having to eat dinner out most nights or having to eat leftovers.  He ignored the ever growing stack of laundry and even washed a few loads for me.  He endured an unkempt home.  And spent nights watching TV alone while I was in my basement office typing away.  All this was plenty to earn him kudos in my book, but it gets better.

I came home one day to discover that he had put out all my Easter decorations and even set the table with an Easter theme.  I was so touched.  (But I did also have a moment of "who are you and what did you do with Tommy.")

A couple of days later I came home and he had gone to Pottery Barn and purchased spring covers for our throw pillows, gone to Pier One and purchased forsythia branches and a beautiful vase to showcase them, and decorated the living room for spring.  I think I'll keep this guy around.

The following week he went to the grocery store (partially for self-preservation).  He bought cheese for himself.  I don't like cheese, so it doesn't bother me if we run out. But he also bought fresh fruit, which I love, and things to make sandwiches and drinks and chocolate.  I'll DEFINITELY keep him around.

I'm bragging to my friends and coworkers about how sweet he is and how much I appreciate what he's doing for me.  Here's the kicker.  The last special sweet thing.

The morning of my party, Tommy told me he was going to the shooting range with a friend from church.  I stayed home and did a bit of cleaning.  A little while later, the doorbell rang.  As I came downstairs to answer it, I could hear a baby crying and wondered who was at my door with a baby.  I opened the door--and there was my grandson, Carter, sitting on the step in his car seat!  Tommy had gone to the airport to get the kids.  He and they were sitting in the car at the street filming my reaction to finding Carter at my door.  Of course, it was tears of joy.

Unbeknownst to me, my boss had arranged for my kids to fly in and attend my retirement party.  Tommy knew I would want the house to be nice for company coming.  All my friends and coworkers knew this and understood why he'd been so sweet all month.  And no one spilled the beans!  Not to imply he isn't sweet all the time.  But this was really special.  I love this man.

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That....

Manor Market is just down the street from Lindsay (my daughter).  It's about the size of a 7-Eleven.  We pass it nearly every time we leave her house, as it sits on the corner of a fairly busy intersection.  Sometimes we stop for a drink or for her to get gas.  It always brings a smile to my face when we do.

Eclectic doesn't even begin to describe this place!  You name it; they sell it.  You can buy "freshly made" sandwiches, beer kegs, wood for your fireplace, lottery tickets, disposable phones, snacks, maps--the list is endless.  And, there is no rhyme or reason as to how it's shelved.  Last time we stopped, they had potato chips and motor oil on the same aisle.  Just trying to maneuver through the store is incentive to stick your diet.  Not only are the aisles filled to overflowing, they are very narrow.  As you can see from the picture, merchandise spills out the front doors onto the sidewalk and even hangs from one door.  The other door (on the right in the photo) displays photos of anyone who has bounced a check in the store.  Not exactly how you want to earn your fifteen minutes of fame!

It makes me smile just thinking of Manor Market. And who doesn't appreciate something to smile about on a beautiful fall afternoon?

Combat Croquet

About 10 or 12 years ago Tommy and Matt tweaked the game of croquet and dubbed it "combat croquet."  We have a very hilly backyard.  They designed the course so that most wickets are on the edge of a hill, which makes it very difficult to get the ball through the wicket without rolling it downhill.  Their way of thinking (and the battle cry) is "anybody can play croquet on level ground."  Then they added two extra wickets that come with monopoly-style "chance" cards--everything from "lose a turn" to "one free hit of another player's ball" to "take an extra turn."  Oh, and you play with two croquet sets.
Just about every year, we have a group of people over for dinner and then a game of combat croquet.  And each year, we try to add a few "newbies" to the mix.  We hosted the combat croquet evening last Monday.  It had been several years since we'd done so.  Everyone had a great time!  The pictures hardly do it justice, but you'll get the idea.

We start with dinner (on a level surface).

Then the fun begins!



Choosing colors.



Behind the fence.



Battling back up the hill.



Levels of the hill.



In the rough.

 

And where are the ladies, you ask.  We know better than to get in the way of men in competition.  We sit back, relax, visit, and watch the guys try harder to keep someone else from winning than trying to win the game. 

Surprises

You've heard this joke, haven't you?  One of the nice things about getting old is that you can hide your own Easter eggs.  Something similar happened to me this year.  Although, I'm certainly not old and it wasn't Easter eggs, but flowers.

When the snow finally melted off my front flower bed in May, five small green stems poked their heads through the dirt reaching for the sun.  I remembered planting bulbs last fall.  But, for the life of me, I had no idea what kind or why.  You see, I have a black thumb when it comes to gardening; so I always plant the same thing.  Petunias.  They grow well here, don't require much upkeep, provide plenty of color for the front of the house, and are hearty enough to survive my touch.  These were definitely NOT petunias.

I watched and waited hoping for a clue.  The stems grew taller and taller.  No buds.  Still taller--still no buds.  June gave way to July.  Finally, long slender buds formed.  And took forever to open.  Two weeks later, when they finally did, lo and behold--stargazer lilies!!

And it all came back to me! Last year after my mom died, two dear friends gave me a basket of the lilies.  They had no idea that stargazer lilies were my mom's favorite flower.  I enjoyed them in the pot until all the blossoms were gone then transplanted them to the front flower bed.  It's the only place in my yard that gets direct sun, which is what the little tag in the pot said these particular flowers needed.

Somtimes being forgetful can bring surprises like finding Easter eggs you hid yourself.  And, sometimes forgetfulness brings wonderful blessings.  The surprise of a beautiful flower.  The memory of my fantastic mom.  The thoughtfulness of two special friends.  God is so good!

The Passing of an Era

Did you watch the final launch of a space shuttle?  It was an almost flawless launch--only one brief stop of the countdown.  Spectacular, even after 30 years!

As I watched, I reflected on what an integral part of my life space exploration and travel has been.  You see, I grew up in Texas City, Texas.  Less than 20 miles from the Johnson Space Center.  I remember the race against the Russians to be the first to launch a man into space and the palpable disappointment when Yuri Gagarin blasted off on April 12, 1961.  (Coincidentally, Tommy's 9th birthday.)  Alan Shepard followed on May 5, 1961.  Sooooo close.  Can you believe that was 50 years ago?

The space program progressed from Mercury to Gemini to Apollo missions.  Each time there was a launch, our school teachers would bring a television to class so we could watch.  Small--probably 12" screens--with a grainy, black and white picture.  The rabbit ears had to be positioned just so in order for us to even get that.  Yet, the entire class would be riveted to the picture.  I was in the second grade when John Glenn blasted off the first time.  History in the making.  And, I got to watch!

We took several field trips to see "Mission Control" in my later years of elementary school.  I doubt I was as impressed as I should have been.  Mostly it was a day out of the classroom.  Although it was cool when the lights that tracked a space flight's path were turned on for us. Yet, every time I see mission control featured in a movie or a television program, it takes me back.  How many people can say they've actually been there?

Where you were July 20, 1969 when Neil Armstrong took "one small step for mankind; one giant leap for mankind"?  I was sitting in my boyfriend's family room once again riveted to the television (this time a color picture).  Only eight years from the first manned launch to putting a man on the moon.  Wow!

Before he reported for active duty with the Air Force, Tommy's spent a year working for McDonnell Douglas designing crew procedures for the space shuttle.  That was in 1974.  Just seven years later, Space Shuttle Columbia launched.  April 12, 1981.  We were living in Utah, home of Thiokol (now ATK) who makes the solid rocket boosters used to launch the shuttle into orbit.  Once again riveted to the television and living near an integral part of the program.

Let's not forget the Hubble telescope or the twin Mars exploration rovers or the Cassini spacecraft that orbited Saturn.  Between 1998 and 2000, three separate launches carried space station modules into space to later be connected so men could live there.  Enormous technological advances have come as a result of the space program.  I read somewhere that most watches today have more computer technology in them than the first space modules did.

And now, it's over.  Johnson Space Center employees 3,000 scientists, engineers, and support staff.  Many will lose their jobs.  A high school friend who has worked at NASA for 23 years said today was a very emoi\tional day.  She just felt empty.  Layoff notices are expected at ATK as well.  How sad.

Hopefully, this won't be the end of our space exploration.  As my friend said, "the sky's the limit."  I hope we find a way to continue to explore the final frontier--to continue "to go where no one has gone before."

Freedom

July 4th has become my second favorite holiday (Christmas is the first in case you wondered).  Hometown parades, picnics, the first homemade ice cream of the season, fellowship with friends, city fireworks shows, and great colors to decorate around.  OK, that last one is pretty lame. But, I do enjoy the colors on my white porch railing; and it was cool to see how many people dressed in some combination of red, white, and blue for church today.

And how cool to see flags flying on homes and businesses around town!  What a reminder of the freedoms we enjoy in this great country--to speak our mind, to worship as we desire, to bear arms, just to name a few.  In the busyness of the day, let's not forget those who fought to make sure we had--and continue to enjoy--those freedoms.  They were bought at a great price.

There is another freedom we should remember and for which we should be especially thankful.  Not just on July 4th but year round.  That is freedom from an eternity in hell.  That, too, comes at a great price.  “For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 (NLT)

We sang Stuart Townsend's, "How Deep the Father's Love for Us" in church this morning.  It is a favorite of mine.  These verses make me cry every time we sing it.

Behold the Man upon a cross,

My sin upon His shoulders.

Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice,

Call out among the scoffers.

It was my sin that held Him there,

Until it was accomplished.

His dying breath has brought me life,

I know that it is finished.

Not the nails, but my sin held Christ on the cross!  He willingly endured the most horrible of deaths so that I might enjoy eternity in heaven.  Amazing grace and costly freedom, indeed.