“Retired” is not a word you will find in the Scriptures.
Transitions and seasons—those are everywhere. But the idea behind our English word retired? Not so much.

So, I’ve been learning to think of myself differently. Not as retired but transitioning into another season of life. It’s not always easy, but little by little, it’s unfolding with purpose. When people ask why we moved 1,100 miles back north into the rhythm of four seasons, my answers have varied. But when I boil it down, it comes to this: family, cost of living, and the simple joy of the seasons.

Now, don’t think for a moment that the question, “What in the world did I just do?” hasn’t echoed through my mind. It has. But after a day like yesterday, that question grows quieter and more distant in my heart.

Once we were settled into our new place, I knew there were things that needed to be done to make it our own. Most of it is cosmetic like paint, flooring and where to hang the pictures on the wall. The house has good bones, but like so much in life, you have to “live in” something for a while before the next steps become clear.

Jobs are like that. Relationships are like that. Even callings are like that. You live into them and clarity comes.

I knew my makeshift coffee roasting setup wouldn’t work long term, but I didn’t yet know what I wanted it to become. So I lived with it. It wasn’t efficient, but it got the job done. Over the past couple of months a plan began to take shape. I needed a simple worktable. Nothing fancy. Just something sturdy, functional, easy to clean, with enough space for roasting and process on top and storage underneath.

And that’s when the real gift showed up.

I called my 21-year-old grandson and asked if he’d be willing to help Grandpa with a garage project. He was all in. Yes, I needed the extra hands, the strong back, and his pickup truck. But what I received was far more than that.

I received a day I never could have had from 1,100 miles away.

We worked side by side; measuring, cutting, adjusting. He offered ideas and tweaks that made the project better. We laughed. We both picked splinters out of our fingers. We both ended up with sawdust down our shirts and paint on our hands… and, somehow, on the floor.

And of course, we made those repeated trips to the hardware store for the things we forgot.

It was a beautiful day.

When it was all said and done, he left with a container of Grandma’s fresh cookies, a little gas money, and a big hug of gratitude. As he climbed into his truck, he said,
“Wow, Grandpa, we got all this done and there’s still two hours of daylight left.”

And just like that, he was off to his next project. I, on the other hand, limped into the house and dropped into my recliner; completely spent.

I told Ruby I wouldn’t be moving for a while and asked if she could bring supper right there. She did… along with an ice pack for my lower back. When I finally stood up, she laughed. I thought that was a little insensitive… but also completely appropriate. We both chuckled.

So, when someone asks,
“Why in the world did you move from Florida back to Indiana?”

I’ll just smile and say, “This is why.”

Grace and peace,

Jarvis

From Soil To Soul

P.S. By the way, I’ve been informed that he and Grandma have already planned our next project together… after I recover, of course.