Office | Wayfarer

“Oh, for the days when I was in my prime,
when God’s intimate friendship blessed my house,
when the Almighty was still with me
and my children were around me….”
Job 29:4-5 (NIV)

I had to be careful when I came up to my office this morning. Madison flew home yesterday for a brief pre-Christmas visit (she has to be on-call for work next week), and both bedrooms upstairs across from my office are occupied with sleeping angels. As I tip-toed up the dark stairway my mind was occupied with thoughts of the days when that was a regular morning occurrence. I remember going through a period of grief right after Madison moved out and the nest was truly empty.

And then, in a moment of vague synchronicity, I get to my office and open my MacBook to read Job’s words pasted at the top of this post. I get that Job is lamenting a loss that was far more extreme and infinitely more dire. That’s the cool thing about God’s Message. It meets you where you are in the moment.

In this moment I feel the bitter-sweetness of aging.

I watch my girls riding the roller coaster of young adulthood. One moment they express to me the excitement of independence and adventure that accompanies that stage of life’s journey. After years of parental guidance (and/or repression), they are living their own lives. They can go where they want and do what they want, whenever they want to do it. And, they can legally drink adult beverages while doing it (except for our acquired young adult, Suzanna, who still has a year or two for that one!). And then, the next moment they express to me the terror, doubts, and insecurities that accompany the realities of finishing school, finding jobs, navigating the health care system, and making ends meet. Welcome to life, sweetie.

For the record, I look at my life currently and realize that I’m on the same roller coaster ride. My car is just over-the-hill. One moment I express the excitement of independence and adventure that accompanies this stage of life’s journey. After years of parental responsibilities with children and teenagers, Wendy and I can once again go where we want and when we want whenever we want to do it. We even have the added blessing of financial resources to enjoy a few things for the first time in our lives. And, we can still legally drink adult beverages while doing it. And then, the next moment I experience the terror, doubts, and insecurities that accompany the realities of a body that doesn’t work the way it used to, hanging onto a job, and planning for retirement that suddenly doesn’t seem so far away. I carry concerns about the parents ahead of us on life’s road, and carry more concern than I thought I would about those young adult children following behind.

C’est la vie. It is what it is.

On this particular December morning, however, both rooms across the hall from my office are occupied with sleeping angels. And, while I miss the one angel who slumbers across the ocean, this morning feels a lot like “old times.” And, for that, I’m thankful (and hanging on for that next hill).

The Lord gives his people strength.
He is a safe fortress for his anointed king.
Psalm 28:8 (NLT)

When I was a kid, my grandfather was fond of saying that he was “King of this castle!” Usually, it was said in jest at the dining room table as he pounded his fist and asserted his authority (before being reminded that he had his wife’s permission to say so). Still, our jests are often rooted in deeper truths and I observed throughout my childhood that my grandfather’s home was, in fact, his castle. It was the place he found refuge. He loved being at home.

From the time we are young, we have a natural affinity for building forts, fortresses, and tree houses. I can remember constructing fortresses made of mattresses and pillows, blankets and tables, and the ever present snow of an Iowa winter. Forts are a place of imaginative play. They are a safe place, a protective place, and place away from outside threat where we can rest and re-create.

I believe that adults are more like children than we care to admit. As we get older we still need our forts and places of refuge. My office here at home is my fortress. It is here that I find quiet each morning to converse with God, meditate on His Message, and write my blog posts. It is here that I imagine and read and write. I’m blessed to get to work here, too. It is my safe place, and when I am gone on the road or at the lake for extended periods of time, I find myself missing it.

Today, I’m thinking about the safety and security I feel in my little 12′ x 12′ fort each morning. I’m grateful to have a physical place of refuge; to be “King of this Castle” (and to have my wife’s permission to say so). I’m considerate this morning of the fact that God’s ever-presence is a place of refuge no matter where I find myself; no matter what the circumstance.