The Not So Golden Moments of Retirement

It’s finally here, retirement. After months of planning and dreaming, the day has come, but my first few weeks weren’t the joy-filled, do-whatever-I want-time I thought it would be. Of course, I expected there would be obligations, tasks and chores, what I did not anticipate was being ill, needing a skin biopsy, and having partial laryngitis. Add in a computer crash, garbage disposal on the fritz, brand new dryer making odd noises, and a jammed tailgate on the truck. Sounds like too much fun, doesn’t it?

Retirement has been my golden egg, the place of peace and contentment, less stress ― in my imagination. I knew there would be bumps and a few rough places, but I figured those would be spaced a bit, not slam me right off the bat.

Divine Orchestration

 Image courtesy of [nuttakit] at FreeDigitalPhotos.net 

They say, never borrow trouble from tomorrow, today has more than enough. I believe that, yet sometimes the prospect of things in the not-so-distant future can add to today’s burdens, regardless of my efforts not to add to my bank account of worry.

One of these issues is writing. It’s a tough business. Writing is hard work and then not everyone will like what I write. I am fortunate not to have any negative reviews of my first book – yet.  I know it isn’t perfect, but could I go back and improve it? Of course. Should I? I don’t know. 

One reader suggested it could be more powerful if I revised it. But, is it good enough as it stands? As Kristen Lamb said, “You will never write the perfect book.” All I can think to do is pray for discernment on whether to revisit that work now, or after I launch my next book, or just let it lie.

Another issue is actually this blog. The day job keeps me away from home eleven hours a day, and doesn't leave much time for anything, let alone writing or spending quality time with my husband. A few of my followers contacted me recently. They comment how much they looked forward to my posts – and miss them. After some reflection, I realized I missed writing them.

These are my meditations on divine subjects, among other things, and are often a reiteration of His encouragement and promises. I haven’t been spending as much time with Him as I should. Yet, how do I balance this with writing novels? As I have stated in Lions, Why I Write, I need to write. But, how?

The Age Factor

After numerous failed attempts to find permanent employment, I am fighting discouragement and despair. Several friends, who are HR administrators, have agreed my age is a huge factor in my job search. Granted, it is illegal to discriminate because of age, but proving discrimination is hard.  And although I have seen jobs I applied for go to applicants with half my skill and experience - and half my age, it would still be hard to prove. If I wanted to. Personally, I do not want to work for a company I forced through litigation to hire me. The work place is a tough enough environment without adding that kind of stress.

Ironically, I am too young to retire and too old to be employed. Then an added disadvantage, I don’t speak a second language, which becoming more and more a requirement, at least in our area.

Add the looming changes in Federal taxes and other regulations which will negatively impact my husband’s and my finances even further,my husband is considering becoming an Ex-Pat, moving to a foreign country where our dollar will go further. I love my country and am not sure this is what I want to do, but I can’t argue against the financial aspect. Statistics show over 3 million retirees are moving to other countries in order to spread out their retirement funds. Most are going to South America where the peso to dollar ratio is three to one.  

Money isn’t everything, and there are many other things to consider. With my husband it is also the desire to travel. Living abroad would also give us that opportunity. What to do?

Amid my desperate prayers for wisdom, my devotions offered these nuggets of spiritual insight.

Streams in the Desert November 25, 26 and 27:

11/25: “To him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory. Ephesians 3:20-21.

The same power that saved us, washed us with His blood, filled us with the power of His Holy Spirit, and protected us through numerous temptations will work for us to meet every emergency, every crisis, every circumstance, and every adversary. The Alliance.”

11/26: “And One asked softly, ‘Why, indeed, take overanxious thought for what tomorrow brings you? See you not The Father knows just what you need?’ ” [Reference to Luke 12:22-30 – The Lilies of the Field]

11/27: “Nothing is impossible with God. (Luke 1:37) “Therefore may we continue to persevere, for even if we took our circumstances and cast all the darkness of human doubt upon them and then hastily piled as many difficulties together as we could find against God’s divine work, we could never move beyond the blessedness of His miracle-working power. May we place our faith completely in Him, for He is the God of the impossible.”

When I look back at all my former difficulties, I see His hand, all of His miraculous deliveries. Impossibilities made possible. Faith was, and is, the difference. The deeper our faith, the more profound and amazing His miracles.

With that in mind, I am giving it all to Him to figure out, for without doubt “…they that hope in the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall take wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40: 31.  And, I will “see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” Psalm 27:13. He has promised.

Golf Carts

After my husband retired, he wanted to live in an over fifty-five community. A place where cars didn’t jump up and down or stereos didn’t sear your eardrums from half a block away. No racing motorcycles whose mufflers seemed to be their only decoration.

We moved south to the land of perpetual sun and into a retirement community, right on a beautiful golf course. It was quiet, but the quiet was deceptive.

Our first morning we were shaken by a horrendous thud against the house. We ran out to the patio.  A golf ball hit the side of the house with such force it bored through the stucco and into the interior support mesh. We promptly moved the patio furniture to the other end of the patio and hopefully out of the line of fire.

We took a walk around the neighborhood. Tire tracks appeared during the night. The black marks ran over the curb and bumped along the sidewalk for several yards before finally regained the road. Night vision problems, difficulty in concentration, or too much to drink?

Most cities have bike lanes. This community had golf cart lanes. Yes, golf cart lanes along every roadway, and designated golf cart spaces, right next to the handicapped spaces in every parking lot. These electric vehicles were silent, but their sudden appearances were deadly. They shot out from alleyways, driveways, and intersections at lightening speeds, far faster than their drivers ever attempted in a full-size vehicle.

However, in the grocery store these Daytona 500 drivers dropped to a pace slower than the desert tortoise. They also kept to the center lane, preventing faster traffic from passing. If you were unlucky to get behind a health-conscious senior, you had two choices. Turn around and go another way or pull up a chair and have a cup of coffee while they read the ingredients on every item in the isle — on both sides. I’m not kidding.

On Christmas Eve the community had a parade. A hundred and twenty-five golf carts, decked out in lights and playing Christmas carols, wound up and down every street and cul de sac. It was a sight to see. I mentioned something about ships in the desert to my husband and got an elbow in my ribs.

While having lunch one afternoon we overheard two elderly gentlemen discussing how to leave a tip for the waitress. They couldn’t figure out the change. After the waitress eventually rescued them, we watched to see which vehicle they climbed into and which direction they went. We went in the exact opposite.

After these incidents we weren’t too surprised to hear this small community had a higher accident rate than Tucson to the north.

My husband met another retired gentleman at the dog park. They compared community experiences.

The gentleman concluded, “You know I’ve just got to get away from all these old codgers.  They are driving me nuts and what’s even scarier, I am an old codger!”

Well, there are different degrees of old codgers...the Cognitive and the Not So Cognitive.

We moved a short time later into a mixed community. Kids ride their scooters and bikes up and down the sidewalk in front of our house. Young people drive too fast and leave skid marks at the stop sign. That’s okay. The center isle at the grocery store is very rarely blocked and we have yet to see one tire mark on the sidewalk.

This experience underlined the necessity for diversity.

“Thank you, Lord, for creating a world with infinite diversity. Amen.”