“Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

• Psalm 90:12 

Cowgirl, our beloved blue heeler, age sixteen-going-on-seventeen, was once as swift afoot as any dog I’ve ever seen. But nowadays crippled with arthritis and limited stamina she struggles to walk around the block. Happens to all of us, doesn’t it? In fact, it is indisputable that as we age – I’m talking about all living creatures – we slow down, we simply don’t move as fast as we once did. I know it to be true because I’m experiencing it myself, not to mention being painfully aware that it will be a progressive decline.

But there is something about aging that has caught me by surprise, a grace about it which I did not expect, that offers with it an amazing joy. It seems to have piqued my awareness of life’s brevity and the importance of making the most of the time I have left, though not in an urgent way nor with feelings of sadness; rather with a sense of adventurous excitement, and a clarity of purpose. I notice that about Cowgirl too. While she may not chase rabbits, squirrels and tossed tennis balls like she once did, she remains vitally interested in sniffing out the smells left by the other critters in the neighborhood. In other words, taking time to slow down and smell the fireplugs.

Simon and Garfunkel delivered a great message about this in their 1966 hit “The 59^th Street Bridge Song (Feeling Groovy)”: “Slow down you move too fast / You got to make the morning last / Just kicking down the cobblestones / Looking for fun and feeling groovy.” Might their lyrics be suggesting that in our hard-charging workaholic culture we are going so fast that we’re missing out on the joy?

It begs the question, is aging God’s little prank he pulls as a way of teaching us, as the Psalmist wrote, to number our days? For sure, aging does force us to tap on the brakes. The surprise comes in that when we do what awaits is an unimaginable sense of joy, feeling groovy as the song says.

Cowgirl, through her zest for life and graceful aging has inspired me to number my own days, to be thankful for what I have, and to continue to gain and give and love all I can, but at a manageable pace. Live like that, she’s teaching me, then “All is groovy.”

“He who answers before listening – that is his folly and his shame.” – Proverbs 18:13 

Looking for the perfect gift to give someone special? Here’s an idea for you, and it won’t cost you a dime. All it requires is to spend some time with that person and just listen. But in order to listen – truly listen! – you must be willing to set aside your own agenda, your judgments and prejudices, and the temptation to offer your “sage advice”, allowing yourself to become totally immersed and absorbed in his or her world, not your own – just for a while. Then be prepared to be amazed how much your gift is appreciated.

We live in a noisy world where people seem to have to compete to be heard over all the clatter. It’s as if everyone is trying to speak at one time with no one taking time to listen. Listening, in fact, is in such great demand and short supply that people pay big money for it, igniting an explosion of growth in the listening professions such as my own profession of coaching where our job is to spend time in the client’s corner – not advising – but listening, partnering, and exploring possibilities, ideas, and solutions together.

It is not, however, only the listening professions where it is in such great demand. Listening is critical in every endeavor. Consider this example from my own experiences. Several months ago, I was referred to a doctor I had never seen before. As would be expected he inquired of my health history and the reason for my visit. Never, though, was I allowed to complete a sentence, as he was constantly interrupting and jumping to conclusions. Contrast that with another doctor to whom I was also referred. She too inquired of my health history and the reason for my visit, but instead she sat quietly, listening intently to my narrative while taking copious notes, hardly ever interrupting except for clarification. Both doctors came highly recommended and are well regarded within their respective specialties, but the first one I would never go back to see – ever! The second one, though? I’d go back to her without hesitation.

Listening. It won’t cost you a dime, yet it is more valuable than gold. That’s what makes it such a perfect gift to give someone special. Experiment with it and see what happens; and be prepared to be amazed how much it is appreciated. But beware of the likes of the first doctor. As the Proverb says, “He who answers before listening – that is his folly and his shame.”

“God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” – Genesis 1:27

Having had the opportunity to spend precious quality time during the Christmas holidays with our grandchildren, some thoughts occurred to me about what I have learned about God from being a grandparent. First, I must confess that despite how much fun we have together, my grandchildren are not perfect (which of course is true for all of us). Occasionally they do misbehave – imagine that! – frustratingly so at times. But my frustration is inevitably short lived, for no matter what they do I love them more deeply than they can imagine, plus I have the advantage of seeing what great potential they have, which they have yet to figure out. In other words, I see them as God’s creations, made in His own image.

The cornerstone of my profession of executive coaching is the belief that our clients are creative, resourceful and whole. That is, they are not broken, don’t need fixing, and are fully equipped with all they need to deal with their circumstances. How’s that, you may ask? Because, like my grandchildren, they are God’s creations, made in His own image. The coach’s job is simply to help the client recognize that and tap into it.

One of our sons, after learning they were expecting their second child, came to me with great concern about his capacity to love another child as much as he loves his first. Part of me wanted to laugh, not to make light of his question, but because I knew he would find out soon enough. And indeed he did; for the first time he held that beautiful baby girl in his arms all his concerns vanished as if they had never existed.

What have I learned about God from being a grandparent? Three things: (1) God’s love, like my love for my grandchildren, is not conditional on good behavior. (2) God sees in us far greater potential than we are able to see in ourselves, just as I’m able to see in my grandchildren (and my clients). And (3) God’s capacity to love is infinite, just as my son realized about himself when he held his second child in his arms. So, if these are true about God, are they not true about us as well? After all, “God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him . . .”

“. . . they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth.” – Luke 2:39 

As has been my custom these past fifteen years, after this issue Abundant Living will take a sabbatical for the rest of December, returning in January with a new series. So, as the year approaches its conclusion, as many of us do this time of year, I have been reflecting on the events of the past year in my own life, only to discover that nothing especially extraordinary happened. By that I mean we did not go on any exotic trips, no cruises, visits to foreign countries, or other adventurous excursions; we didn’t move into a new home or remodel the one we live in; no new grandchildren were born into our family; nor have there have been any major changes in our business or volunteer activities. Likewise – thankfully! – there is no significant bad news to report, no health issues, job losses, or tragedies of any sort; just ordinary life.

But alas, what is there to talk about in our annual Christmas card newsletter? Hmm! What about the first ever first-cousins’ reunion that we attended in Arizona last spring where my cousin Kitty and I saw each other for the first time in fifty-six years? Reunions may seem ordinary to some, but for those of us who attended it was extraordinary. And our home? It may look the same, except at least once a week it comes alive, filled with friends, food and laughter. And what about all the time we spend with our grandchildren, playing with them, cheering them on, being engaged in their lives? And the lives Tee touches each week mentoring in the public schools and volunteering at Hug’s Café, and the clients I have the privilege to work with in my executive coaching practice?

Contrary, you see, to the barrage the media subjects us to about high-profile people and major world events, most of real life occurs in the ordinary. Not that those people and events don’t matter, for they do impact us all. But it is through the ordinary encounters we experience each day – helping, encouraging, supporting, teaching, mentoring and influencing others in positive ways – that provides the ballast that keeps the ship aright, that prevents the world from completely capsizing – always has. Is it any wonder then, that the Creator of the universe, the King of kings, the Savior of the world – God himself – when he visited our planet two-thousand years ago, chose to dwell among the ordinary, whose humble parents after birthing him in a stable “. . . they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth,” an ordinary village of ordinary people living ordinary lives?

“. . . unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.” – John 12:24 

Ah, the annual autumn battle with the oak leaves! We do love the eight large gorgeous oak trees that surround our home, especially the beautiful fall colors they produce – that is, until they begin raining down into big piles all over the yard. This past week we have raked leaves every single day in desperate attempt to keep our yard looking nice, a seemingly endless battle as the overnight breeze simply blows down more. Yet, not far away the wooded trails where we often jog and bike the leaves remain unviolated by rakes and leaf blowers creating a thick carpet over the ground where during the course of winter they are left to slowly decay, enriching the soil and providing nourishment for the new vegetation in the forthcoming spring. It is nature’s way of demonstrating how death becomes life-giving. Mind you, it is only the foliage that dies, not the entire tree.

We humans are like that. When a part of our self-centered nature dies it becomes life-giving. When we surrender our addictions and other things we think we can’t live without, we position ourselves to nourish, restore and replenish others, to offer them new life. There is no better example of this than what occurs in Alcoholics Anonymous which is comprised of people who have surrendered their addictions to God through the support of fellow human beings who have walked the same path. It is a beautiful thing how one who has surrendered – that is, died to part of oneself – is able to in turn “sponsor” another through his or her surrender, a dying that becomes life-giving. Lives are recovered, relationships restored, and new ones formed. AA works because one person’s death to a life of addiction becomes life-giving to another.

Each of us is like a grain of wheat, and until we die to ourselves, we remain just a grain of wheat; but if we die, we produce much fruit; our death becomes life-giving, filling our lives and those of others with abundance, meaning, and purpose.

Autumn is such a beautiful time, my favorite season of the year. It is a time when part of nature dies, yet from that death new life is nourished – just like what we do when part of us dies.