2nd half of My 602

I wanted to post this writing, but when I read over it, I was struck by how really sad it sounds. I want to say that I’m not at all in a constant state of depression, but I believe I’ve slowly let myself drop into a funk.

 

When I turned 60, I just felt old. As the years have passed, I’ve climbed even farther down the other side of the hill.

 

As people get sick, as others die, as I have more trouble with my own body and Murray with his, I struggle with feeling old and that I don’t have much chance of doing anything special anymore.

 

The other day I thought about how some people seem to do so well in their 70s, still active and going strong. I had an “I may as well be blonde” moment. I thought, “Maybe my 70s will be better.”

 

Then I realized what I was saying. I’ll be 65 next month; I still have half of my 60s left. What was I saying—that I’ll just waste the next five years and wait for things to get better in my 70s?

 

I believe God has given me the hope of changing my life in the 2^nd half of my 60s. Why not work at being more active, more hopeful, happier?

 

I want to work on my relationship with God. I want to be more hopeful about the Bible verses which speak of God’s love and forgiveness. I’m willing to share hopeful verses about those things with others, and I want to encourage myself to believe they’re true for me too.

 

I want to try to do better about my help. Eat better and be more committed to exercise. I’ve let myself get lazy and stay in bed later.

 

And since my injury thirteen years ago, I think I’ve let myself feel more disabled. Before that, I don’t think I ever let myself think I just couldn’t do things because I was disabled. Certainly with our children with disabilities, we encouraged them to find out how they could do things they were challenged with rather than not. But, I believe I’ve allowed myself to be more unable. To let other people do things for me. I don’t want to continue this.

 

I want to be more willing to do things with Murray. Usually if he asks me to go somewhere with him, shopping or out to eat, I say no. I’d rather just stay at home. The other day, he suggested that I go with him this week to look for a new dish washer, and I said yes, without even thinking. If I get really brave, I’ll even tell him that I’m trying to go out with him more, so he’ll think more often of asking me, and if I start to say no, he can remind me that this was my intention.

 

I read something this week about a writer, who has written similar things for forty years. He said he’s trying to write something new and recommends that other writers do that, try to write something different than they’re used to. I love writing, but I’ve gotten really lazy about it. I want to push myself to write more.

 

The negative part of me thinks that I’ll probably give up on most of this. That’s what I usually do. I lose heart and get depressed and don’t expect much of myself. But I’m working at being hopeful. This all happened over a long period of time, so any improvement I see may be slow, and I need not to let that stop me.

 

I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, because I figure that I’ll quit them soon. This time, I’m trying to aim for something for five years. What kind of sense does that make?

 

It makes sense because God’s mercies are new every morning. If I’m feeling low one day, like I’m failing, I can still try again the next day.

 

Lamentation 3:21-23:

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness.