This past month, Karen and I went back to visit family in Minnesota and Wisconsin and to attend a high school graduation. Karen stayed an extra week not because she enjoyed the rain and the cold of the Midwest, but she wanted to spend some extra time with her parents. Her father, Doug, will be 92 in October, and her mother, Betty, just turned 87 in May. Both are in relatively good health, and Doug still drives - and is probably a safer driver than his son-in-law.

They have lived in their little home on Vine Street in Hudson, Wisconsin for over 60 years. In fact, Doug is fond of saying, "Everything is fine at 805 Vine." But in some ways, everything is not fine at 805 Vine. Like many elderly people, they are finding it more and more difficult to stay in their own home. I'm convinced that they know in their heads what they need to do. Their daughters have tried to emphasize that it is best to make decisions when you are able rather than being forced to make a decision when you are more vulnerable or that decision has to be made by another person. Even if we know this is sound wisdom, it often takes time for the heart to arrive at the same conclusion.

How do you give up a place that has been your home, your source of security, your place of rest and refuge, the place where you have raised your children, and the source for many, many memories? As we get older, we deal with loss on a daily basis - the loss of our driving privileges, the death of a spouse and close friends, the deterioration of our health and well-being, the loss of your life's work, and a myriad of other blessings that are no longer available to us. We deal with loss all of our lives, but they seem to grow exponentially with each passing year. Gerhard Frost said it well: "God saves the hardest part till last."

How do we manage in a life filled with losses? I think of Paul's words in 2 Corinthians: "So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day." By their words and actions and by their deep and intense faith in times of adversity, this is a lesson I have learned from many elderly teachers who have taught me along the way. Gerhard Frost once asked an aged friend, "What is there, when one has lived as long as you, that is more and more in this world of less and less? I'm guessing she might have answered, 'My people . . my Bible, my baptism, my prayer book, my hymnbook, and especially God's promise of eternal life.'"

Then Frost sys: "There are oaks in the forest of God. They are gnarled and twisted because they have weathered bitter winds and stood against the harshest storms . . .These oaks are those trusting spirits who have stood firmly rooted in God's goodness and daily grace. They are people who have been hurt by the years but whose hurt has only deepened their understanding and strengthened their love."

In the midst of all of our losses, may God renew our inner nature day by day; may we live fully and abundantly in the promises of God; and may we continue to be amazed and surprised by the gifts of his grace, mercy, and love each day of our lives.

                                                                                                Pastor David