It’s that time of the year again. The season of birthdays, parties, graduations and weddings. I’m not talking about that part, because it isn’t my part. It is the part that comes after…the cleaning. I love to make room in my life for new things. I find myself asking each month: How do I make room for ______? It’s a constant. It starts when I hear about a pregnancy announcement at a party, or when a loved one graduates. It starts when my children ask for help with science fair projects or when I watch someone give their first talk at church. I am always in need of more space, more time, more words, more knowledge. As the mother of five, I must tell you: it is difficult to keep up with all the people that need help in my life. I often feel like there are too many people in my life, that I cannot possibly help everyone that needs a little bit of love or some help with the carpooling or the homework. But what if the thing that comes to me next week isn’t a housecleaning project? What if, instead, a friend comes to me and asks for help with a difficult relationship in their life? Or asks for help in figuring out how to make a decision that will change the course of their lives forever? What if they are facing this next change in their life, not because they need to tidy up their house, but because they need a safe, protected place to step in and be vulnerable with their thoughts and their feelings? This time of year is when I think of what my life might look like without support for the people who come to me in moments when I can offer some wisdom or some practical guidance. What if it’s a young couple struggling to get pregnant, or a widower wondering how to make room for his wife’s children. I cannot imagine what it will be like to leave them. Because of this, I find myself making more room for their needs, even when I’m not sure how they are going to fit into my busy schedule. I don’t always know how I can do this, but I do it anyway. This is how I give a gift to the world: one thought, one word, one action, a little bit of myself, no matter how inconvenient that action might be to my own schedule or plans. This year, I have already given a gift that I didn’t know I would give, and I am still searching for the gift I can give later today or later this week. It’s my chance to make room in my life for those people who will need help in making room in their own lives. May you too, discover a gift you can give. How do I know this time of the year is coming? My oldest child turns 23 today. He shares his birthday with the anniversary of his mom’s death. As she would have wanted it, he is here with us today. But, so are the rest of his family and his life that is so much bigger than us. How do I know that time is coming when our schedules are still full of the last of summer days and parties and birthdays and vacations? I don’t know, and it scares me. If I look back on my parents’ lives as they approached their 60s, I see some similarities. Mostly that they seemed to gain wisdom when I thought they lost some of theirs. They seemed to have more energy for life when I thought they had all they could hold. The biggest difference between their lives in their 60s and mine now are time and perspective. Because of what they did, I do not have any fear of the time that is approaching me. This was not easy, this was not easy to learn, but it is true. What I am about to share with you is life changing. You must believe me when I say this: this is how you grow old, this is how you become wise. This morning, I was out with a friend in the middle of nowhere. We were in a new area for our group, one I’d never been to before. As we drove along, we passed one of my favorite memories with my mother. It was one of her favorite places as a little girl, this spot right there, and we drove past it without stopping. I tried to imagine what she would say to me if she could see me there now, in the very same place that held such a special memory for her. I would tell her what I know now, which is this: it doesn’t matter where you are, or where you’re going, but that you will remember where you are by what you see in your life right now. When we stop to view the flowers in the field, it’s a gift of time, because we realize it’s not about us, it’s about this moment. That we’re going somewhere, but it is a gift that we can go anywhere with those around us, even in a field, because the beauty is the same no matter what is around you. Stop for one moment. Look around. See the things God is doing in your life today. The beautiful flowers in the meadow, the birds you only see when you stop the car, the stars that are not out by a city that you are so tired of watching. You only notice them now when you slow down and look for them. See your own life this way. You are here right now, and even though this may be the only place you’ll ever call home, right now is your only moment. Stop for a moment, and see what God has in store for you, right there in this moment. I promise you: this is how you will grow old and wise. My mother-in-law is a minister. She is also a professor of linguistics and a mother of three. When she is here in my home, I sometimes think she is my teacher because she is a woman that knows how to speak love and words that work. Her family will tell you that she is an excellent cook, and she most likely is; we just all pretend she isn’t. My daughter would often joke that she does not feed her children, she feeds us. She and my husband are good at putting together a meal. I don’t know where they learned it, but my husband, for his part, can put together a great meal. She is an incredible teacher and a phenomenal friend who I love to spend time with. I, however, am a terrible cook. At least, in the same way that my mother-in-law is: I am a great listener, and I can make some things from scratch. Unfortunately, my husband will not want to come back to the house when he goes back to work tomorrow, and I have the responsibility to make it taste good. I need help. I’m going to need to find a balance between these two different vocations: home and work. I need to do more cooking, even if the result isn’t gourmet food. For me, the time is now. I’m afraid. Of everything: of cooking from scratch, of taking a class, of becoming the family cook for my husband, of failing. All I have right now is fear of the unknown. I’m afraid that I will not do these things well, because I will be trying. I’m afraid that I am putting myself in a position where I will become someone’s hero, the cook that never disappoints. These things make me afraid, but when my husband sees me making something from scratch on a weekend afternoon, he doesn’t see the fear. He sees the result: he sees his food; and he can do the same. This is not just about cooking and food. This is a lesson for everyone. Life is scary. I do not know how to cook a meal for my husband. I’m afraid that he’s not going to like it, or that I will disappoint him and that we will spend our evening alone in our apartment because I know this dinner is a failure. Life is scary. When my son does poorly in a test in school, my heart sinks, because I’m afraid he’s going to disappoint us as a parent. Life is scary. There is nothing more terrifying than the unknown future we all live with, the one that we have not even seen yet and may never see, or the one we know awaits us if we do not shape our lives right now. My mother-in-law will tell me that God never promises a clear path for our