Holes in my Umbrella

 

                                                                                                                           

When Bob died, just a short time ago, I said to someone, “The holes in my umbrella are getting too big. There’s not much left of it.” My parents’ generation was like a protective umbrella over me. They were my prayer warriors and spiritual mentors. They were the ones I would call when I needed some advice, or some extra prayer support, or to just give me a listening ear when I needed to vent. But the umbrella has developed some serious holes in it and there’s no way to repair it. Bob’s death was a wake-up call for me.

I remember when the first significant hole appeared. Before I could join my husband in the pastoral ministry, I was told I needed to develop a prayer warrior foundation. Ministry is not easy, and our director knew I would need support if I was going to make it as a pastor’s wife. I presented our ministry in my home church and asked for people who felt called to commit to being my prayer warriors to talk to me after the service. Two women, one of them my best friend’s mom, came up to me after the service and said they would love to commit to praying for me regularly. Not only did these beautiful women pray for me, but they also wrote me letters and sometimes included a crisp $100 bill in the envelope.

It was about a year and a half later that my umbrella sustained its first large tear. One of my dear warriors lost her battle with cancer. I still remember feeling lost and vulnerable. What was I going to do without her support?! I was rattled. I soon realized that the umbrella was still largely intact. I was going to be okay. Surely God would bring me another prayer warrior. Surely, he would patch the hole.

Fast forward many years.

When my dad sang with me as I played for him in the extended care home, I did not realize that that would be the last time he’d sing out loud. I could no longer ask his advice on issues he had wisdom about. Breach. My mom…I just need to debrief with her on the phone. So many things I still need to ask her. She was the one who introduced me to Jesus and taught me to read my Bible and talk to God regularly. Chasm. The death of my high school Sunday School teacher tore another gash. My uncle, puncture. And now just recently Bob passed away too. His daughter married my brother, so he’s just always been there. With his quirky sense of humour and incessant adorable teasing, Bob was part of the support team in our first ministry. These are just a few major fissures in my umbrella. It’s as though a relentless hailstorm is sweeping over me, punching gigantic gaps in my umbrella and I am helpless to stop it.

So.many.holes.

As I journalled my loss, citing that there are too many holes in my umbrella, I instantly heard Holy Spirit whisper in my ear, “You are now the umbrella for someone else, for your sphere of influence. Lift it up and shelter them.”

I’ve been struggling with getting old. My grandsons often remind me, “Nana, I think you are too old to do that.” Seriously, that sledding hill doesn’t look THAT steep! And those rapids…what could go wrong?!

The older generation in my family is almost all gone, and I am now fast becoming the ‘older generation’. How did that happen?! I’m still 17! Honestly, getting old frightens me a little--okay, a lot! I don’t want the burden of being the older woman! (Insert pouty face).

My son married a beautiful Indigenous girl. Courtney is helping me navigate this getting old thing. Her people honour those who have made it to 60 years. As a badge of honour, they call them ‘elders’. They treat them with respect and dignity. She keeps saying, “Mum, it’s an honour to be your age. And you need to accept the physical limitations that come with it. Be kind to yourself and your body. Allow us to do for you what you are no longer able to do.” My daughters concur. I am surrounded by grace-filled kids who honour me by helping me with physical tasks I can no longer do and at the same time they honour me by seeking my advice on issues, etc.

It is a huge privilege for me to hold up my umbrella for those who are my people. One day they will be the ones holding the umbrella as my job will have been completed. How will they know how to do this if I refuse to demonstrate.

“Similarly, teach the older women [that’s me now] to live in a way that honors God…they should teach others what is good.” (Titus 2:3, NLT)

“These older women must train the younger women…” (Titus 2:4, NLT)

“Teach the older men to exercise self-control, to be worthy of respect, and to live wisely. They must have sound faith and be filled with love and patience.” (Titus 2:2, NLT)

“In the same way, encourage the young men to live wisely. And you yourself must be an example to them by doing good works of every kind. Let everything you do reflect the integrity and seriousness of your teaching.” (Titus 2:6–7, NLT)

The Bible is pretty clear that I do not get a pass on this. When I was a younger woman, I was to learn from the older. Now that I am the older, I am responsible to mentor the younger. And men, the same applies to you.

Because I have had some fantastic examples from both men and women of God on how to live close to Jesus and be a cheerleader for those who are following me, I can now pay it forward. Holes in my umbrella are a double blessing because there is evidence that I had an umbrella and now I am honoured to hold mine up. I have had some extraordinary men and women demonstrate how to do this well. Now it is my turn to lift my umbrella and be a covering for those in my sphere of influence who are younger than I.

Photo Credit: Olivia Baker