life

Reflecting on Life: Age 61 and Sweet 16 Memories

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

61 is 16 backwards!

I turned 61 on Tuesday May 26.

It dawned on me that age 61 is age 16 backwards.

So it got me thinking about what life was like for me at 16.

I was “Sweet 16 and never been Kissed.”

I thought something was wrong with me.

A couple of boys had tried when I was out with friends to kiss me but I shied away from contact. I wasn’t interested in them.

My first kiss came at 17 from a very nice boy who I didn’t appreciate at the time.

However, at age 16, I was writing stories with romance using my limited imagination, having never experienced romance in real life. I had read a lot of books, though, so I parroted some of what I read.

Although I had a few kisses in college and in my early 20s, I didn’t receive the kiss that really mattered until I was 24, when I had my own fairy tale romance with the man of my dreams. We fell in love and had a beautiful wedding. It was all a dream come true for me. Our marriage was good, until “til death do us part” actually happened when were still in our 40s. I lost him in a work accident.

I’ve written romances since he passed away, but now most of my characters are widowed or in some cases divorced.

Second-chance romance, a concept that was foreign to me at age 16.

Had someone told me on my wedding day that I would only have 20 years with the man of my dreams, I would have been in an even bigger hurry to say our vows. I know that because I wouldn’t have wanted to miss a moment of our lives together.

Through all the changes that have happened since I was a teenager, one constant remains. My faith in God has been with me on every step of my journey. I became a believer at a young age and was baptized. I never strayed toward the partying lifestyle. In part because our church started a youth group around that time. The fellowship and social activities gave me a place to belong, when I didn’t feel like I fit in at school.

Doors opened for me in high school that led to the opportunity to go to a Christian college and live in the dorms.
It was in college that I received my second kiss. From a nice upperclassman. Nice, that is, until he broke my heart. I can laugh about my “heartbreak” now, because it was so meaningless in comparison to really getting my heart broken when my husband passed away.

I had a couple of other boyfriends, one in college and one in my early twenties, that never went beyond a few kisses.
During those years, I did a lot of living: Studying, then teaching in Mexico; Leading youth group at my local church; Bible studies; and working full time at a couple of different jobs.

But I didn’t write any fiction during those years. In fact, a friend in Mexico told me that Christians shouldn’t write fiction. So I came home from there and threw out all the stories I’d written in high school.

That was a blessing in disguise, because I am embarrassed now at some of the things I wrote. I’m glad none of it was ever published.

After I married, we started a family. I became a stay-at-home mom. Suddenly, I spent all day with a baby, then a second one, without a lot of interaction. I suffered with undiagnosed postpartum depression. I disliked house work. I loved my kids and my husband, but I was bored and often lonely.

When my kids became toddlers, creativity once again blossomed in me. I wrote even through the darkest times in my life.

I wouldn’t become a published author until 2007, long after high school ended.

These days currently I have a lot of free time on my hands. I am widowed, two adult children share my house but live their own lives, and I don’t have a car, by choice, because I’ve chosen not to drive anymore due to medical issues.

Now that I have all the time I need, I have writer’s block. I haven’t written anything new for a while.

I have a few projects in various stages of completion that I’d like to finish. I have a book in the editing stages that I hope to release this summer.
I may struggle to get the words typed into a document, but one thing I am convinced of:

God is not done writing MY story.

I thought I knew enough about life to write at age 16. I do know a lot more about it at age 61. But I will never stop learning what God has in store for me, as He does something new in my heart every day.

My struggles with social anxiety have made me a recluse of sorts, but God is helping me extend my “box.” I hope to make great strides this summer with participating in life outside my four walls again.

And as I begin a new year of life, at age 61, I pray that God will help me to be a blessing to others and grow my faith.

And maybe, just maybe, to complete some of the writing projects I’ve neglected.

Finding Truth in Your Thoughts: Steps to Healing

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

Week 2 of my Journey out of the Pit

Last week I shared insights from my Christian counselor. When I was in the pit of depression, the truths that I learned were the rungs that helped me climb my way out of the pit.

I first had to recognize that what I believed about myself was not the truth about me.

In one session, my counselor was trying to print something and had to change the default printer to a different one. She said that it was similar to what takes place in my thought process.

My “default” feelings:

Blaming myself when something goes wrong

Thinking that everything bad that happens is my fault.

Feeling that I am not worth anything or a bother to someone else.

Believing that I am less ____ than anyone else

Harboring resentment

Feeling guilty for past sins or mistakes

To find healing from the depression, I needed to let go of these thoughts. I needed to learn to Stop, to Catch my Thought, and to Change the Default.

Replace the negative thoughts with the truths about who I am. (See Previous Post: Climbing Out of Depression: Key Steps to Healing).

Phillipians 4:8 gives us an illustration about the things we as Christians are to think about:

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Remember, our feelings affect our thoughts, and our thoughts influence our actions.

Often times I feel like people don’t like me, or I did something dumb and they now think poorly of me. My thoughts turn against me, telling me that I’m a bad person or I’m unlovable.

When I think like that, I turn inward and pull away from people who care about me or stop going to the places where the events happened.

I am my own worst enemy. But my feelings are not facts.

A few of the facts about me are:

  • I’m not dumb.
  • I am who I am because that’s how God made me
  • I’m okay the way I am.
  • I’m not like everyone else.
  • I might have made a bad choice but that does not make me a bad person.

When we catch ourselves in a negative thought, we can turn it around and replace it with a positive truth, or affirmation. We can learn to change the default thought.

No one can do this for us. We can only do this for ourselves, and by the grace of God.

I’m not suggesting that this is easy. In fact, it’s very hard to change the way we’ve thought about ourselves for so long.

We need to take this healing process one step at a time. One day at a time.

Don’t look at a week, a month, or a year.

“THIS is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

My Basketball Man: A Poetic Tribute

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

There he goes

Look at him now

Moving across the floor

Dribbling that ball

Passing it. Wow!

He just scored two more.

He’s my basketball man

Moving as fast as he can

Those rippling muscles

That flash of tan.

There goes my basketball man.

I wrote the above poem during a time when our high school basketball team was in tournaments. I loved that squeak of basketball shoes on the gym floor, the fast pace (and it didn’t hurt that some of the players were good-looking).

I didn’t show anyone the poem then. I hadn’t remembered it much until this week.

I didn’t date in high school. One or two dates the summer before my senior with someone who didn’t go to the same school I did, but I usually don’t count that. (Mostly because I feel bad for the way I ended it).

Leaving high school insecurities behind, I went away to a Christian college. There, I was asked out by a few different guys. I went out with whoever asked me, finding dating in the protective climate fun.

A college junior who was on the basketball team asked me out. I accepted. He was 6’6″ tall. I remember telling him guys back home didn’t grow that tall. He found something he liked in the country girl I was, and I became his girlfriend. The relationship never got off the ground. He ended it a few weeks later. I was hurt by the way he ended it, but I eventually bounced back.

I made some poor judgment calls when it came to dating, and I also went out with some nice young men.

But I didn’t find one that stuck.

Until I met my husband when I was 24. He was a year older. We married 10 months after we started dating.

He loved sports of all kinds.

Especially basketball. He enjoyed watching professional basketball on TV (along with every other sport).

He also played in a local league.

And with his brother and various friends, he entered 3-on-3 tournaments, some local and some with the Gus Macker games.

With him playing, I found that I enjoyed watching basketball again.

He really fit that poem I’d written in high school.

He moved fast across the court

he had skills with dribbling and shooting

and…

…well, he was tanned.

…and muscled.

A very good-looking man.

As we grew older, he quit playing basketball and started golfing, more of an “old man’s” sport.

But he never lost his love of the game.

And I never lost my love for him.

It’s been a while since I’ve watched a game in person, and I’m not much of a TV sports fan. But I have great memories of watching him.

My basketball man.

I share this because today is his birthday. He would have been 62 this year. He’s forever young in my memory.