Texts from the past #4: retirement

pic via New York Post

March 7, 2018

“Did you know that Levitical priests were required to stop their service at age 50? In other words, retire.”

We talked about going home for at least two years. About retirement. The sadness of Chuck never getting to enjoy his retirement, his grandchildren, just knocks me over sometimes.

 “This applies to the Levites: from twenty-five years old and upward they shall come to do duty in the service of the tent of meeting.  And from the age of fifty years they shall withdraw from the duty of the service and serve no more. They minister to their brothers in the tent of meeting by keeping guard, but they shall do no service. Thus shall you do to the Levites in assigning their duties.”  Numbers 8: 24-26

Thinking about this topic, I did a little googling and found this –

“As a society it makes sense that certain jobs that require extreme physical skills such as fireman might have age restrictions.  The way in which the Biblical concept differs from that of our society is that as long as the person is mentally and physically capable of contributing to society in any form whatsoever, they should do so. Certainly, one might have to move from one function to another, but sitting at home waiting for one’s pension check and focusing only on pleasing oneself tends to hurt the individual as well as the society.” – Rabbi Daniel and Susan Lapin

So, I guess I’m officially “retired” now myself as a teacher in the state of Florida. I don’t know what the Lord has in store for me in the coming years, but I pray that He will use me somewhere, somehow.

Texts from the past #3: small silly things

Photo by Wendy van Zyl on Pexels.com

I don’t have a date for this one, but it was sometime in the spring of 2018.

I took a picture of a portion of text from a book I was reading. I don’t even remember now what book it was or exactly why I sent it.

“It is all right for me to pray for the small silly things. Do not let me fall. Do not let me get laryngitis – as long as I hand the prayer, no matter how minor, no matter how foolish, to God. Your way, Lord, not mine.”

Fast forward to this year. We prayed for a lot of things, large and small. For wisdom in decisions. For strength to eat. Praise for a bowel movement. The week before Chuck died our pastor visited. Chuck told how he was too tired to pray. I could see he was nearly too tired to think. And I was too undone to pray, but I know it was the prayers of others that sustained me and got us through those days.