Are You Living Your One Life Well?

I didn’t plan to climb a mountain that day.
My birthday plans included breakfast at a favorite spot, a casual walk at Smith Rock, afternoon tea with a good book, and dinner with friends. “It’s all about you today,” my husband teased. The weather was perfect, a gift in itself.
As we walked the valley floor hand in hand, wildlife skittered here and there. Geese honked loudly overhead, drawing our eyes to the majestic rocky spires Smith Rock is known for, its variegated colors lit up by the morning sun.
I took a deep breath and slowly let it go, grateful for the beauty and peace around me.
This sense of inner calm was a characteristic I expected to come with retirement, though that hasn’t been true for me. The last few years have not been a walk in the park.
Since birthdays are a good time for reflection, I ask myself each year, “Am I living this one life well?”
Navigating Life’s Transitions After Retirement
I retired four years ago. Since then, we’ve moved to a small town in another state. We now have a new home, a new church, and new friendships. Our entire lives have changed.
 
Our family has grown, and with it, my desire to hold our new ‘little loves’ and have them near. I weep secretly and regularly over the distance between us and our children and grandchildren.
Yes, I’ve thought through all possible solutions, but making family visits can feel more like an interruption, especially when you’re the mother-in-law to a DIL. And, another move at this stage of life seems unlikely, requiring an extra dose of chutzpah I wasn’t sure we had.
There was a lot to unravel as I considered my annual inventory and how it aligned with my life’s purpose, which is to live and love well.
Opt for Adventure When the Opportunity Arises
Eventually, my birthday stroll came to the end of the river trail—we could either hike up the mountain or turn around. It was my day, my choice, and another crossroad.
When I awoke that morning, I had thought to take the day easy, but easy has never been my way. I hadn’t come into this day, or this life, looking for easy. I’m here for the adventure! That meant turning up the dusty path, justifiably named Misery Ridge, away from the peaceful life of the valley floor, once again accepting the mind-body challenge of reaching for new heights.
This day was turning into the perfect metaphor for life.
As we worked our way uphill, friendly hikers pulled over to allow us passage on the narrow trail. Some were well-prepared, seasoned hikers. Others were not.
One of these was a man we stopped to ask for advice. The climb was becoming decidedly more challenging, and it would soon be too late to turn back. I knew he’d have an answer for us because of his hat. It said, “Ask me about geology and sh*t.” Feeling that life had taught me enough about the latter, I asked about the terrain ahead.
“Well,” he said, “It’s steep and narrow with moon-dust-like scree. You’ll need to be sure-footed (nodding at my husband’s hiking poles), have plenty of water, and take breaks. By the way, you’ve chosen the more difficult approach. This hike is usually done coming from the other side.”
The irony was not lost on me. Here I was, asking God if my life is headed in the right direction, and I’d just been told I was going at it backward. Isn’t that true of this upside-down life with Christ?
After a brief inventory of electrolytes and power bars, we continued our adventure.
I was a little embarrassed about our lackadaisical preparation, but that changed as we neared a woman dressed in light tan slacks, strappy patent leather sandals, and a designer cross-body purse that dragged in the dirt as she scooted by on her bottom, desperately clinging to the rock wall.
Soon we were high enough to have an overhead view of the opposing cliffs and the river gorge far below. In contrast to the dry, dusty trail, we saw vast, cool green pastures of farmland and grazing livestock, creating a refreshing rural scene that gave me pause and hope.
We kept on.
Nearing the peak, our last few steps onto level ground required muscle and sweat, but we’d made it!
I turned to take in the 360-degree view and immediately sighted a small lean-to nearby, equipped with old crutches and a metal stretcher. I chuckled. Was this a sign of times to come? Or a reminder to be prepared in case life’s journeys don’t go the way we envision?
Huddling into a small spot of shade, we enjoyed our snacks, caught our breath, and returned to the trail.
On our descent, we met another woman, this time a young mom. I winced at her flimsy shoes, tiny shorts, sports bra, and the two-month-old baby strapped to her midsection. Assessing the trail behind her, there was no way she could turn back. Aware of what was ahead of her, I prayed and made a mental note to watch the evening news, hoping they wouldn’t be on it.
Around the next boulder, we heard voices and the clanging of climbing gear. Adventurous boulderers had chosen an even more challenging route than ours.
If going through life isn’t agreeable, why not try climbing over it?
No, thank you. I’ve been there and done that. Believe me, there is no simple path in life.
To say the way down was a challenge would diminish our experience. I wouldn’t call it harrowing, but I would emphasize extreme caution.
My husband is a healthy guy, but when you combine a right knee replacement, left ankle replacement, and two shoulder surgeries, with a steep hillside of crumbling shale, hiking poles didn’t look like they were going to ‘make the grade,’ if you get my pun.
Suddenly, the ‘scoot method’ we’d giggled at previously was elevated to a highly technical and desirable skill. I suggested it, but he didn’t take the hint. Thankfully, we made it to level ground without employing another effective method, rolling down head over heels. Thank you, Jesus!
5 Truths You Can Rely On in This Life
I didn’t plan to climb a mountain that day, but I hadn’t planned on a lot of things that have happened in life. Sixty-six birthdays in, and I’m just beginning to admit how little control I have over my life.
There are, though, some truths I’ve learned I can rely on:
- Turning back when the climb becomes steep doesn’t mean life will become easier. In fact, it may mean missing out on a lesson meant to move us ahead.
- Don’t overthink things; take inventory, pray, and take action.
- Loneliness is a state of mind, not a truth. There will always be people around to guide the way and walk with you; it’s up to you to reach out and ask. God will never leave you. You are not an orphan.
- The grass is always greener on the other side of the gorge. Keep going and you will get there.
- Life absolutely will not look the way we imagine it. It will require more grit and grace than we ever knew we could possess, and it will simultaneously bring unimaginable joy.
How does the path ahead of you look, my friend? Are you living your one life well? Are you cultivating an eye for adventure, or are you waiting for life to take a turn toward ‘easy’?
—
Part of living our lives well is loving those who are a part of it. Here are some practical ways to shower your people with love anytime: If You Want to Love Your People Well – 268
 
 
