They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green.

Psalm 92:14

Today is my husband’s last full day of work. He entered the work world delivering newspapers when he was only nine and ended as a care pastor looking at 75. We’ve talked a lot about what it looks like to retire. Mirriam-Webster defines it this way:  

1. to withdraw from action or danger 
2. to withdraw especially for privacy
3. to move back
4. to withdraw from one’s position or occupation 
5. to go to bed

In the past ten months we have relocated, renovated, recovered from health challenges, and now retired. Each of Webster’s definitions sounds appealing but, while we will take some down time to recover, we will not stop. We think about traveling some, enjoying open calendars, and living at a slower pace. Age has slowed us down, but we’re convinced that if we’re breathing, there’s more to do.

Perhaps our friend, Pastor Marty, said it best: “Rich won’t retire, he’ll re-fire.” And that’s what we anticipate—new fire. We’re excited to see what God will do in this next chapter and expect to encounter grace-filled opportunities.

If you’re reading this, you’re breathing, and you, my friend are not finished yet either! Join us in expecting God-surprises.

They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. Jeremiah 17:8

Another detour to Valley Hospital prevented me from blogging last week… and the weather would have complimented this post so much better! Since then we’ve had snow flurries and temperatures that may have been record lows.

Still, my calendar tells me it’s spring and tomorrow April will arrive. I’m sure there’s a lesson in this about truth not being skewed by circumstances but I’m going to stick to reflections on spring because right now I need those happy thoughts. Every change of season inspires me—just one reason I love living in New Jersey—but spring is uniquely inspiring because of its promise of life.

I love the first bright yellow-green buds that pop out on tree branches and the way the landscape grows greener by the day.

I love the thrill of discovering a crocus pushing through the dirt and the promise of a daffodil blooming and bobbing amid its slender green leaves.

I love the hopping, chirping, nest-building birds flitting from branch to branch, sweetening the air with their song.

I love the promise of strawberries ripening and the anticipation of seedlings becoming a crop of fresh produce.

I love longer daylight, longer walks, and lighter jackets.

I love the greening grass and bluer skies and the way the sun seems to shine more yellow.

I love the spring peepers cheeping outside my window, their chorus confirming the arrival of spring.

I love forsythia teasing us with hints of yellow and await the spectacular appearance of pink cherry blossoms and magnificent magnolias.

I love being reminded that Creator God has designed the rhythm of seasons—in nature and in our lives. And I am so grateful that, even when our physical well-being is threatened, every design and plan is God-ordained and good.

I love knowing the beauty of spring that swells my heart is dim compared to the colors, designs, and wonders that await me…

“Things which the eye has not seen and the ear has not heard, 

And which have not entered the heart of man,

All that God has prepared for those who love Him.” I Cor. 2:9, Amp