|
Tuesday Morning Epistles Welcome to "Tuesday Morning"—a convenient weekly hitching-post for weary riders. Not the Marriott, but not "Motel Surprise" either. Specialists in adult education identify certain points of adult life as "marker events." These points are not so much age-related as they are event-related. The birth of children, career changes, geographical relocations, physiological changes, arrival of grandchildren, debilitating illnesses, loss of loved ones by death—these are a few of life's many changes that affect adults as they mature. Marker events are not easily forgotten. They stick out in our memories like street signs in neighborhoods—identifying what happened, where it happened, and with whom it happened. Retirement (typically for adults who have reached a certain level in their working life) is one of those marker events. It usually comes with questions that can begin suddenly and not end until very late in a person's life. When my wife and I faced our point of retirement, we asked questions we never had to think about before: Where will we live? Will our standard of living have to be adjusted (down)? Can we continue to reside along Boston's south shore where we worked at the time of our retirement? Will we be able to live near our children or other loved ones? What about out medical needs? Where will we attend church? And the questions all mature adults face: What will we do to keep busy in retirement? Will we have to continue working (part time) to afford our new standard of living? Will we be able to own our own home? What will we do with all the stuff we have accumulated over the years? Will we be able to contribute in some way to the community where we retire? Will anyone care for us when we are unable to care for ourselves? Will we end up in an assisted-living setting someday? Will we be able to afford it? For us, the initial questions related to where we would live and what we would do. We chose to re-locate from New England to the south-central part of the country--Oklahoma ("where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain, and the wavin' wheat can sure smell sweet, when the wind comes right behind the rain...."). Okay, I'm sitting down. Locals stand when the choir begins those lyrics. It's almost like the national anthem in these parts where hitching-posts actually existed at the turn of the last century. Once the location was agreed upon, we began to look for things to do to keep our minds and bodies occupied until we decided what we really wanted to do. We decided to maintain our hobbies, to attend the church we attended for 16 years before moving east, to re-connect with friends and family in the area, and to get organized. (Madelyn was the one who suggested that we get organized. I never was one that obsessed about where things were.) Then something else happened. It's the topic of this week's essay, "In the Beginning." If you are curious about what happened next, read on. Put yourself (in your mind) where I was at the time. Think about what you will do when you retire. I've got a secret: It's great!
Have a reflective week.
Tom Barnard
A Retired Encourager (and "happy as a clam," as they say in New England.) ___________________________________________________________________ “In the Beginning….” Tom Barnard
his is not an essay about the Genesis account of Creation. It’s more personal. It’s about me. (If that turns you off, delete this now and go about whatever you had planned for today.) Actually, I could have said that this essay is all about you! Now, do you feel better? Then continue to read on. My current life began five years ago, in March, 2003. I had a life before 2003, but it took place in a different time zone. I retired from a career in college teaching and administration in 2001. My wife and I moved from New England’s gorgeous landscapes to the plains of Central Oklahoma. Several eastern friends said, “You’re going to do what? Have you lost your mind?” They still wonder about that. Our move was for one very pragmatic reason—we could afford to live in Oklahoma. We had lived here before, for 16 years. For ten years prior to my retirement I had a wonderful job—relating to pastors and churches that financially supported the college where I served. I attended their annual events, conferences, and retreats—listened to their stories, wept with them in their pain, and did everything I could do to encourage them in the work to which God had called them. To this day I feel that America’s preachers are the most under-appreciated, under-resourced, and under-paid professional people I have ever met. But they won’t tell you that. I just did. I had determined long before retirement that I wanted to live in a town with a full-service bank, a full-service new-car dealership, a full-service Christian university, a group of full-service professionals who really know how to relate to family needs (medical, dental, insurance, legal, etc.), great restaurants, and at least one full-service mega-church. Our town has all of those. Beyond them all, however, I wanted to live in a community where people say “Hi” to perfect strangers on the streets and where friendships quickly grow. For me, the very bottom-line issue was not what would I do in retirement, but where would I do it? The town where I live offers some of everything you have just read. Is it heaven? Hardly, but you can see it from here. For thirty-five years I taught classes, spoke in chapels, attended meetings, worked with staff, wrote letters, raised money, served on committees, smiled at strangers, laughed over crazy things, and enjoyed academia. All of it! If I were young again and had the opportunity, I would it all over again. Just like the first time. I suppose in retirement I could have supplied as a preacher, consulted, volunteered to work in interesting places, returned to college teaching in adjunct roles, and raised money for institutions at home and around the world. I had done all of that. I asked God to lead in new directions. He did just that. A friend was the voice of the Lord to me. At lunch one day he said, “Tom, why don’t you write?” “Write what?” I replied. “Write to pastors and leaders in Christian organizations.” “What will I say?” I asked. He said, “God will give you the words.” “How can I afford to do that? Who would buy my stuff?” “Simple,” he said. “Do it electronically. Build your mailing list slowly. Keep your expenses low. People will find you.” He was right. March 2008 marked the beginning of our sixth year in electronic publishing. Our main publication, “Tuesday Morning,” is received by more than 2000 individuals, churches, denominational offices, publishing houses, missionaries, Christian schools, and homes in 35 world areas. Two websites store the material we send out. Those websites are electronically “hit” hundreds of times each month by persons we have never met. It is amazing. And humbling to behold. Here, shortly after we celebrated our fifth anniversary in publishing, we pause to thank God and our readers for making all of this possible. And this is only “the Beginning….” Help us get the word out. There are encouraging times ahead. It’s only just begun. And now there is our brand-new book: E-Couragement: Meditations for Leaders. (Beacon Hill Press, 2008). Check it out at Amazon.com. |