In ten days, I will be seventy-seven. Seven more than the three score and ten mentioned in the Bible. I consider anything beyond that, as we New Orleanians say, is lagniappe. I don’t know how many years of life on this earth I will continue to live. God knows. And I am content with that. We often marvel at people who have been given strength to live into their nineties or even beyond one hundred. My only living aunt is ninety-three and still living in her own home by herself with a mind as sharp as it’s ever been. She has a memory that can go far beyond mine. She is informed, funny, loves to converse, and is so happy to be in her own home. When I speak of her, I say, “She’s remarkable!” And she is. Length of years, strength, unfailing sight, good hearing, and general good health are given by God and not a matter of pride. For in all things–“what do we have that we have not been given?”

I have been quite meditative today. I have been “cleaning out.” I’ve cleaned out things so many times in my life and still they abound. I began this cleaning a few days ago with the intent that I would unburden my mind—so I could write—by uncluttering and reorganizing my surroundings. I don’t know about you, but sometimes “to-dos” just hang over my head like a weight until I get them done. So, I began with my desk. Then realized to do my desk, I would have to clean out my downstairs bookcase. To do that I would have to make room in the upstairs bookcase. And on and on…

As I cleaned and organized, I looked around, not so much at our furniture or things we use, but things that I’ve kept for decades and haven’t looked at in years, some, I’ve never used at all; yet somehow, they’ve survived every clean-out and remain with me. So, I have been reflecting on the fact that if we live long enough, most of us at the end of our lives will be reduced to the necessary things that can fit in one room. I remember cleaning out my mother’s house when we moved her to live with us. I remember cleaning out Ken’s dad’s house when we moved him to live with us. Our home was their home. But still, their things were reduced to those necessary things that would fit in one room of our home. Some of us will be blessed to live our last years like Mother and Dad, in one room in one of our children’s’ homes. Or we may choose to live in one room in an assisted living facility or need to be in one room in a nursing home. And we will likely die in one of those rooms or in one room in a hospital. We will be weaned little by little from this life we now have. That is a strong impetus to “clean out” and “unload” as we “reach forward to those things which are ahead.”

“In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also.”