The Death of a Childhood Icon

 

I’m a little sad this morning, as are many Americans over the age of fifty. Jimmy Carter was the first U.S. President of whom I was aware as a child. There had been two other Presidents in my life before that, but I don’t remember ever hearing the adults in my life mention Richard Nixon or Gerald Ford. I was too young, at the age when children tune out adult conversation, entirely grossed in their play.

But I was almost seven when Carter was inaugurated as the thirty-ninth President, a big victory for my Democrat parents. They were crushed when he lost to Ronald Reagan four years later. My mom resignedly and wryly said that Jimmy Carter was too honest.

And there’s where the crux of my sorrow comes in. Though I haven’t been a Carter fan, following every single move he’s made during his long life, as an adult I came to believe that he was one of a tiny handful of Presidents who was actually the Christian that he claimed to be. Like so many other people, I admired him for his lifelong dedication to humanitarian work. I have seen no other former President in my lifetime set aside his generous lifetime pension and get his hands dirty, day after day, serving his fellow man.

And I fear that may never happen again. Since the 2000s, politicians have become greedier, more deceptive, and more corrupt than ever. They can’t even hold a debate against an opponent without hurling insults and inventing stories about the other side based on the viral politically-laden story of the week. Despite his less-than-stellar Presidential legacy, Barak Obama at least knew how to respect his opponents and behave professionally in public.

It's not really the politicians I'm worried about so much, but the younger generations in general. They're being taught that isolation and selfishness is the norm, that hating people who disagree with you is okay. Those kinds of worldviews can lead only to more problems, more suffering, more war, not less.

And our world leaders are doing nothing to help change the situation.

Another thing that makes me sad about Jimmy Carter’s death is that it emphasizes the frustrating fact that slams into my face every time I see a recent photo or video of a celebrity who was young and famous in the 1980s.

Barring a fatal accident, I will one day look that old. And then, be gone from this earth.

I have heard time and time again that Christians shouldn’t fear death, that they should look forward to the Lord taking them “home” (a misnomer if I ever heard one; perhaps I’ll address it in a future post). It’s not that I’m not looking forward to an eternity without suffering or frustration. However, I have a lot of regrets, dreams I’ll never fulfill (yes, there is such a thing as it being too late to fulfill a dream), things my heart wants to do but my tired body and brain don’t.

I can only do two things: live the best life I can with what I have right now, and hope. Hope that one day, I’ll get to meet Jimmy Carter in person. Thank him for being an awesome role model.

And maybe take a walk with him on the streets of gold and reminisce about the glory days of the 1970s.

Why Bother?

 

Another Christmas has ended. A new year looms on the horizon, shadows dancing among streaks of light. And I find myself, once again, asking, “What is it all for?”

Why do I continue to write novels, when I barely eek out an average of $300 a month from over thirty books? Why do I bother gardening in the spring and summer, when I’ve developed some kind of sensitivity or other to just about any of the foods I can grow here? And when the inevitable disease that takes out most of the crops makes all the time and work to grow them seem pointless by August?

Why do I stay in a place where I can’t be free of year-round allergy symptoms outside of medical intervention, and where the barometric pressure sometimes seems to be constantly dropping, causing me fatigue and mood swings? Why do I continue to pray when most of my prayers seem to go unanswered?

Why bother publishing blog posts, when many of the views may be coming from bots, and probably most of the human views come from people who read only a fraction of the article and then leave? Why do I do the work – exercise, eat healthy, etc. – to be as healthy as I can, when I know that the afterlife will be a much more joyful, peaceful, and fulfilling place to be than my current life?

Why bother? Here's why.

I write stories because the activity helps me to maintain my mental health. I write stories because I believe that once in a while, a message in one of my books ministers to someone just when they need it.

And, when it comes to either careers or hobbies, writing stories is my first love.

I garden because I need to spend some time outside every day, and growing summer vegetables forces me outside in hot and humid weather that I would rather avoid. I garden because there’s no satisfaction like harvesting something you’ve grown yourself. I garden because it helps me understand ecosystems better. I garden because homegrown cucumbers are worth it.

I stay where I am because it’s a lot quieter than even a small town. I stay where I am because being surrounded by forest makes me feel closer to God. I stay where I am because to move would be excessively stressful, especially for my husband and our son, and I love them enough to sacrifice a bit of my well-being for the sake of their contentment.

I stay here because wherever we might move to, we would end up trading one set of challenges for another. And we’re used to the challenges we have here. We know what to expect, how to ameliorate them.

I pray because God isn’t Santa Claus, doing His best to fulfill our selfish wishes. I pray because prayer is about connection, not begging. I pray because it helps me keep my attitude straight and gives God permission to work in my heart.

I blog, in small part, to market my books. But more, I blog as a catharsis. I also blog on the off chance that a random visitor might read an entire post and receive encouragement.

As for the health question, well, I see and have seen many people suffer for years on their way to heaven, because they haven’t treated their bodies the way God designed them to.

What is it all for? Why do I bother working to live the best life I can, when I frequently don’t see the results I think I should?

I bother because emotions are fleeting. I bother because I only have the teeniest view of the impact I’m making. I bother because I’m supposed to love myself and my neighbor. I bother because I know God isn’t expecting international prize-winning work or global impact from me, but quiet, unassuming obedience.

I bother because He has given me a large purpose, an important purpose, the same purpose He has bestowed upon every human from time immemorial.

That purpose is to experience life to the fullest extent possible, and to walk by faith through every circumstance and situation it brings.

Even if the life feels small. 

My friend, your life is not small in God’s eyes. It’s bigger than our solar system’s sun.

Happy New Year,

Emily Josephine.

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