The Other Side Of Fifty

     Most everyone knows about the ribbon at a crime scene. I have unwillingly been drawn across an invisible line as real as that ribbon. I did not even see it coming, nor did I know when I had crossed it.

     Sometimes in my life, I have held God's hand tightly, and trotted along like a child, knowing I was safe, and watching everything around me. I have not always looked up at Him. But when I do look up, I remember why I am safe, even if I ignored my Heavenly Father for a while. He is holding my hand. It is wonderful beyond belief that He did not let go when I became distracted, and lagged back, my attention on something else. Sometimes I even let go of God's hand, but He stayed near me, and always took it and held it again, and second I held out mine. I am His child.

     God called me very strongly to be a mother. Nothing else from the age of nine held my fascination and anticipation like motherhood. Nothing else has given me such rewarding and lasting joy. That's forty-four years of thinking about one thing. Now, I am still a mother, of course, but my children are mostly grown, and don't need me like they used to.

     And NOW, I have been unwillingly drawn through the gate of menopause, to a strange and alien place. I feel like a grazing animal that somehow became lost in a fog, and crossed through an open gate unknowing. I find myself in a new pasture. Not very green, and rather steep and rocky. There is no way to go back. There is no gate in sight. What do I do? Where do I go? How do I sustain myself? Most of my flock is gone, and I see no paths. For me, menopause has marked a physical line in life, as surely as that ribbon at a crime scene.

* Turn thee unto me, and have mercy upon me; for I [am] desolate and afflicted. The troubles of my heart are enlarged: [O] bring thou me out of my distresses. Psa 25:16,17

     I become very lonely in this new place in life, and sometimes quite lost. I still need to be needed. I begin to wonder what women do in this society, at fifty years old. The media is so concentrated on youth, that one would think no old people even live here. I am surprised at my own wrinkles, and sagging skin. I have found myself wondering if any other human has this problem, though I know they do. But virtually no one talks about life on the other side of fifty.

* My flesh and my heart faileth: [but] God [is] the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. Psa 73:26

     I can't speak for senior women yet. I can only speak for three years past that line. First I spent an inordinate amount of time bewailing the changes in my body, as it appeared to crumble around me, and some unwelcome changes in my life. Now I am beginning to understand that God doesn't want me to remain sad about it. It is His divine will that I be happy. Well, what DOES He want me to do then? I can't be happy about AGE, can I? Well, maybe so. After all, look at people like Joni Earickson Tada. She was terribly injured, and thus shoved through a gate of life into a new place, ever so much more severe than mine. Yet she has glorified God with her life and her story ever since. God has blessed me through her, many times. If she can bless her Heavenly Father for her life as it is, surely so can I. Perhaps I am to thank Him for forcing me to take my focus off of myself, and what I enjoy doing. To turn my focus on Him, and ask for new directions.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
look full in His wonderful face;
and the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
in the light of His glory and grace.

     It is obviously in God's plan, for us to slowly age and deteriorate, and for griefs and pains to mar our lives. WHY? Ah, I don't need to understand. All I have to do is remember my son Kyle. I had a plan for his life. I loved him so dearly, I was determined to raise him so that he would become a man who loved God, obeyed the law, was a good worker, and loved his family. I believed that this would give him the greatest chance of having a happy future, as much as possible. That was my plan. Kyle did not necessarily understand, or appreciate the parts of my plan that included pain.

     I did have to teach him certain things, and I did on occasion have to spank him. Rare occasions, and terribly difficult for me. I well remember how hard it was to make myself raise my hand to this beloved son. He was such a good child, so merry, so loving, so much fun. He cared about his transgressions, and was sorry. But I had to teach him. It is human nature to repeat a sin, if not corrected. He would plead to know how many spanks, so I would tell him. I remember both of us crying in the bathroom, while I tried to make myself give him his spanks. I said I would, and I had to. But oh, how hard it was.

     If I felt that bad about disciplining my child, how much more so must God feel, about disciplining me. I am His child. He knows lessons and wisdom that I need to learn, that I don't even know about yet. He must teach me what He knows is good for me, but I know it must be very hard for Him. Kyle always knew when a spanking was coming. His rules were set out clearly, and the punishments were exact. But life doesn't do that. If you break a law in front of a policeman, not knowing it is a law, you will get in trouble anyway. God doesn't do that either. In my life, He has sometimes allowed negative experiences I never expected, and tragedies that shocked me. But I am His child. I trust His wisdom. I believe in His love for me. I am on the way to Heaven, and the more I accept of God's will while I'm here, instead of struggling against it, the happier He will be with me. I long to be the best I can be, for Him.

     Just as half-grown lambs must kneel in order to reach under to nurse, so I must spiritually kneel and become submissive to God's will, in order to receive spiritual nourishment.

     Understanding is beginning to settle around me like gentle rain after a hot day. It appears that God must have a new use for me. At first, I see that my own children's lives and stories are the place to begin. He is certainly not finished using them for His glory. I praise Him and thank Him for this.

     I see now that all I have to do is take one step at a time, and follow my Heavenly Father. He has allowed me to live in these beautiful mountains, which I love and appreciate every single day. The first tentative steps I took were to write down the workings of my heart. I am recording the lessons I have learned, and continue to learn from God. Praying that He would use them to His honor and glory, and sharing them on the net. He gave me an obvious place to begin to share them, on the site my husband and I built about the children I adopted, who have disabilities.

     I have found a way to witness for the Lord, and He has given me great joy about it. I do feel God's eyes upon me, gentle and patient. I can almost feel Him smile down on me, his lowly lamb, so bumbling and nearsighted. As I follow Him, I fall off the path down a cliff, get stuck in a hole, explore and lose my way. So many time has He followed me, lifted me "out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock." Why did He even bother with me, when I was so willful? Because His love for me exceeds all my understanding. His love for all of us is much too vast to comprehend. This much I know.

* For this God [is] our God for ever and ever: he will be our guide [even] unto death. Psa 48:14

     I think the worst is over. It has been like the transition part of labor. That last bit, when it is the hardest, before the baby is born. The rest must be easier. I am determined to continue following Him through this land of the other side of fifty, and trying to walk well beside Him, obeying Him. I WANT Him to be my guide. I ASKED Him to be. Though I must grow old, and perhaps sick and lonely before I am through here on earth, He will always be with me. And I will ever raise my eyes, and look toward the path He is leading me on, remembering I am on my way to Heaven, to be with Him always.

* Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me [to] glory. Psa 73:24

© 2004 Rosemary Gwaltney