Jan, Alone
This past fall, Claudia and I went on vacation. Far from home and thrown together with mostly strangers and predominately British, part of the adventure was getting to know people and hearing their stories (I’m looking at you, Nigel and Sue!).
Being a smaller tour group, I kept noticing one older woman. She caught my eye right from the beginning. She had style and grace. Her attire was on the glamorous side, clearly dressing carefully. She wore a large fabric flower in her hair pulled tight into a thin bun, and her makeup, done with care shielding her 80-plus years, was always in place.
But it was clear, Jan traveled alone.
One evening early on in the trip I approached the woman seated at a table by herself in the dining room, sat next to her, introduced myself and told her how lovely she looked and that I hoped to get acquainted as we went. Over the course of a few days Jan’s story unfolded like one of those gas station maps, showing a bit more with each brief conversation.
You see, Jan lives as a recent widow.
Her husband from their youth, Michael, had died less than two months before the tour. She said they had planned this trip for some time, carefully saved for it, and then Michael was suddenly gone. Jan considered canceling but chose to go on alone. When I asked her how she pulled it off she said,
“I just get up every day and live my life fully. It’s what Michael would want me to do.”
Unless some miracle of coincidence happens, I will not cross paths with Jan again, but I won’t soon forget her poise and grace, courage and determination, along with clear eyes looking ahead for what might be next. I’m thankful for crossing paths with this spicy old gal while on a riverboat in Portugal.
My brief times with Jan got me to thinking.
Compared to other outfits in our town, our church is on the smaller side. It is in really good health with a generous mix of all that makes Bend, Bend. Young families with super active kids, a few ‘20s just beginning to explore adulting, young oldsters, and older oldsters. In that last group are a number of women like Jan: Single, still showing up, continuing to chase Jesus.
Each Sunday I make a point of visiting with several of the older single women at Foundry Church. It’s a selfish endeavor on my part because these ladies inspire me to live well and keep going on in the face of life’s harder edges and they seem to enjoy the attention.
Women like Loretta and Marian and Bobbi and Shirley and Carolyn and Sharron and Marie and Mary and Annette who humbly walk their faith into our congregation each week looking both to be spiritually and communally fed as well as finding moments to encourage others.
Like my English friend Jan, these women routinely teach me the power of getting up another day and putting on big-kid pants and wading into whatever moment is at hand. And regardless of age the message is the same: Rise up and get moving. It’s just that widows of a certain age are not encumbered by all the stuff elbowing their way into our circle.
These have lived loss, come to peace with unanswered prayer, accepted that gravity wins the body battle, adapted and adjusted to single senior life, and are gamely awaiting their turn to punch their ticket home. With no more need to impress or compete, they seem more free to just live love than I often do.
When I visit with these saints it reminds me of Psalm 62.
Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken.
My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me.
Oh my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge.
One of these ladies said to me a while back, as she sat quietly waiting for the service to begin, that she sometimes feels invisible. She hurried to add that invisibility was not such a bad thing as she smiled and watched all the activity around her, reliving her life and enjoying being surrounded by youth and energy. But then when I catch sight of her, she is talking with and listening to others…anything but invisible.
Louisa May Alcott, in her book Little Women, pens a line I like that is tied to living, learning, enduring, and growing.
I’m not afraid of storms, for I am learning to sail my ship.
All experiences help us learn what we must know to be fully human and fully engaged in a faith-life worth living. Jan is learning to sail in the midst of her storm, just as are my older friends at Foundry. You and I are called to the same.
There is something about widows that catches God’s attention. Along with orphans, widows are close to his heart because they are vulnerable, and often their lives are spare enough to see both their need for a savior and open to help when it arrives. God’s people are routinely called to support, defend, and pay attention to them when busyness can rush us right by.
I can learn a lot from my single senior friends.
Here’s an idea: Take a moment to say aloud the lines from the psalm above, slowly. Now, pause and look more closely at the verses.
Personalize and pray these sentences one more time and let the truth of the closeness of God sink in as though you were widow-like in your own abilities.
God, my Hope that will not disappoint,
Father, you are my Rock that will never move,
Jesus, you bought my Salvation bringing real life,
Spirit, forever my Fortress standing strong for protection,
All of God, you are my Refuge where I can rest.
There is no need to fear the inevitable storms looming over the horizon. The great adventure is learning to sail our boat in the midst of it all, but never alone. Our vessel may be small, but our God is not, so we sail on toward his safe harbor.
The last line in the psalm above is better than any words I can come up with to close this note. Not a bad one to have ready today to offer any person making their way in life.
Oh my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge.
…and by the way, next week in your church, notice, greet, and see if you can help in some way the widow across the room from you. In that, you link up with God in his everyday liturgy of grace.
Music for the win!
How ‘bout some bad jokes…
Shortly after starting a new diet, a guy was stopped in traffic just outside a bakery. The window displayed a host of goodies, and a wonderful aroma wafted out onto the street.
The guy was so tempted! He prayed, "Lord, it's up to you; if you want me to have a bakery treat, please create an open parking place for me."
And sure enough, on the eighth time around the block, there it was!
****************
Harry the Lifelong Complainer and his wife happened to pass away on the same day, and as they await their interview with St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, they're approached by an angel.
"Hello," says the angel. "I'm your host, and welcome to Heaven. In a few moments you'll be entering through our famous Pearly Gates for the most fantastic adventure you've ever experienced.
You'll have a chauffeur driven limousine service anywhere in the universe, plus deluxe accommodations at our luxury hotel with all the amenities—pool, Jacuzzi, indoor tennis courts, and more.
Then after your day of relaxation, dine at any of our 5-star restaurants savoring the finest of any cuisine known to man."
At this point, Harry gives his wife a shove in the ribs with his elbow. "If it wasn't for you and that stupid oat bran, we'd have been here ten years ago!"