The Best of Times

[The view from my hammock, right now]

It's been a strange and difficult school year for both of us educators in our household, a year in which puzzlement or frustration have reigned at times despite our years of career experience (Solomon was wrong; there's always something new under the sun). Workdays have been long, and people both beloved and difficult have come and gone from our daily environments. Battles have been lost and battles have been won. We've been loved and we've been despised. These things have not been a surprise; they are part and parcel of the lives that school administrators live.

A year ago one of my faculty retired, looking forward to spending her retirement years with her husband who retired at the same time from regional church administration in a very difficult conference near us. Just as they moved into a lovely house right across the street from their three grandchildren in Ohio, he began to feel ill. Doctors were puzzled and ran a plethora of tests. They said it wasn't pancreatic cancer, ... and then they said it was. By March he was gone, she was a widow, and she hadn't even unpacked everything from the move. We who had worked with her watched all of this with great shock and deep sadness. "We've seen this too many times," some of us said. "People retire, and then they get sick and die."

I wondered whether our friend had given his life for his church, out of all the stress he had borne through his many years of administration. I am quite clear by this time in my life, having been a missionary kid and then a church worker and then an administrator in a denominationally affiliated university, that this giving one's life for the church is not a noble thing, in general. People should sacrifice neither spouses and children nor their health at the hands of those who call themselves Christians but hold completely unrealistic expectations of their leaders. People should not have to bear an ongoing high level of stress from shepherding institutions that are chronically slowed down by dysfunctional people. Giving your life for Jesus, yes. Giving a short period of your life to get through some stressful situation, yes. Giving your life in general for the church, No. Absolutely not. That's just where I am right now.

So when our friend's husband died soon after retirement, leaving her alone and trying to swim through her grief, I told my husband, "We can't wait until we retire to do our fun things together. We didn't get a vacation last summer, but just ran pell-mell through the whole summer, from one responsibility to another. We need to take a vacation this summer and go to somewhere relaxing. Maybe we'll spend some of our savings, but I'd rather be healthy and together in our retirement and not be able to afford travel, than to experience what our friends experienced after working so hard without much relaxation for so many years."

Nice thing is, Husband agreed with me.

So I write this from a hammock hung between a coconut palm and a sea almond tree on a beach in Belize.  The waves of the Caribbean are driving in to shore, whitecaps curled by a gentle and persistent wind. A rainstorm swept through in all of 5 minutes this morning and then was gone, and the afternoon is muggy and bright, feeling just like it did on the Malaysian island where I grew up. Looks like it, too, with similar flora and the architecture of the former British colony (British Honduras) making me feel right back at home. I could not be happier. Ten days of this is just what the doctor ordered, not just for relaxation, but for thinking, recalibrating, writing, and connecting with each other through our shared experiences as we learn a little about the country.

The past 15 years have held the gamut of Dickens' times: best and worst, wise and foolish, belief and incredulity, light and darkness, hope and despair. Our next 15 years together will likely dish up more of the same, life being what it is. But for now, for today? We've found a piece of the best of times. And it is very good.