What do you do when you suddenly realize at age 60 that your
husband's business is facing bankruptcy? He has, until the last year or
so, operated a fairly successful medium-sized business. Our living had
been adequate to have a nice home, a few interesting trips. We were able
to make good contributions to our church. We supported community
programs. Our social life, though not lavish, was comfortable and we
enjoyed entertaining friends. We found pleasure in furnishing
transportation for Boy Scouts and other youth groups to their camping
grounds, etc. Many times we commented how good life was, we could not
ask for more happiness.

Then gradually the handwriting on the wall began to come clearly into
focus. There just seemed no way to head things back up. You just can't
continue to lose money and build back at the same time.

After my husband came from his banker, we quit kidding ourselves that things would change. There was nothing to do but face it.

I'd go to bed thinking I could shut the monstrous picture out of my
mind. Sleep would only last for a few hours and then I was wide-eyed,
trying to relive the past, correcting the mistakes we had made along the
way. Or, I'd try to lay plans for what we could do for the future. At
60, your chances for good jobs aren't plentiful. My training did not
qualify me for today's jobs. I could imagine the "Sorry, we can't use
you," pop before my eyes. There were plenty of women to do the jobs I
could do, even if I really humbled myself. Though we were still hanging
on, I tried to lay concrete plans.

I tried to be cheerful and normal
for the sake of my husband. I could see that he was trying just as hard.
It was hard to keep up a conversation. I knew it pained him to ask
about the business. I knew if there was any encouraging news, he'd tell
me anyway.

Most noticeable was the change of interests. No longer was I enthused
to hear about some good bit of luck that happened to my friend. I
watched people drive by with good cars, their boats or campers, and
wondered why there were more deserving than we. I was Christian enough
to believe the Ten Commandments and the one that said "thou shalt not
covet" I was sure was meant me.

T.V. programs held no interest for some were too happy, which I was
not; and other programs were full of problems and I didn't need them.
Radio irritated me, but the quiet left space in my mind to go over and
over and try to solve our problems and soon I'd find myself too keyed up
to settle to anything. I have several hobbies but could generate no
enthusiasm for them. Suddenly, the treasures I had accumulated over the
years lost their dearness. I resented that others had what we had worked
for and given every ounce of energy to. Through the jobs, my husband
had helped so many needy persons, a boy who wanted to go to school, etc.
I could hardly get food down my throat, the inside was so tight, and I
couldn't concentrate to read. Worry takes the enjoyment out of
everything.



One message from this experience is to build a retirement as you
go. We were always going to do this when we hit it good; but we plowed
everything back into the business. Now the debts were ready to swallow
it. We had given to the needy, and I couldn't believe that I might be
one of those in need. I thought I had had compassion on those in need
(i.e., the many jars of fruit and cans of vegetables, etc.). I tried to
pretend to be happy and keep it from others in the family, like our
children who were in their early married years and needed no added
burden or embarrassment they would feel for parents they had built such
confidence in.

I had a continual lump in throat and I'd sleep to shut out the
problems; but it would only last a while. Every drawer was torture to
open, for it held things dear, and I wondered what to do with
them. Jokes that used to be funny on longer had any humor.

Then, the bank foreclosed, and we

• tightened our belts,
• found we didn't need all the things we'd been used to,
• ate out of our food storage,
• found we could get by with very little cash outlay

Harold started to sell the equipment, etc. It seemed he had a lot of
guidance from somewhere. Things turned out good in most instances. He
worked his sales like a game of chess. Each move made another possible.
It would have been interesting to have recorded each move.

And the results:

Gradually, we could see the dawn of a new horizon. We had learned to
meet things head on. No longer was there anxiety and dread of what was
going to happen. I began to feel the joy of accomplishment of climbing
out from under the load and found new appreciation for life.

The question of "Why?" had persistently come before me. Now it became, "What can I do about it?"

I began to see the bankruptcy as a period of growth instead of
tragedy. When I wondered if the Lord had turned his back on us, I knew I
must keep trying and not turn my back on him. We would give Him the
best we had and trust in His goodness. It was like being swept toward
the falls and help was just standing on the bank doing nothing. But the
thing I didn't reckon with was that the Lord would be at the bottom to
give His hand.

This is what I learned:

• that adversity can bring growth if we accept it as a blessing and not a tragedy--it all depends upon how we accept it;
• that doors will open, giving blessings that we never dreamed of;


• that to feel bitter and resentful is only a wasted life;


• that the Lord didn't put us here to fail;


• that the greatest growth years should be ahead;


• that there's no growth until we are sharpened on the grindstone of
life (in fact, I feel sorry for completely happy people, where I used
to envy them);


• that this is probably our "Gethsemane"--what we do with it is up to us. We know what Jesus did with His


• that where there's contention, the Lord can't dwell--in my case, this applies to contention in thinking and bad attitudes; and


• that our greatest contribution is to build lives--not to feel sorry for our lot.

Realizing this has helped to give me a sense of direction and a peace
of mind that has eased my load measurably. I think I can now sincerely
pray "not for a lighter load, but a back strong enough to carry it," and
I might add "to accept this crisis for what it can be--a blessing."

-Marie

Editor's Note:

Marie is the great-grandmother of Ryan, the Ryan's Lion Organization
founder. Five years after Marie's death, we had our first Organization
Fundraiser. Just days before the fundraiser, family members found a
crocheted afghan that Marie had made hidden in the back of a closet of
the home where she had lived. The afghan was donated to the fundraiser
raffle along with the following note:

"This lap afghan was made by Ryan's great-grandmother, Marie,
sometime in the 1990's. She would have been in her late 80's when it was
made. It was not unearthed in a corner of her home until just lately
(She had many corners!) As a family, we were not sure who should get
this afghan. She loved Ryan and we know that she would want to help him
with this awesome project."

Marie's lion, Lion #125 was then created in her honor. Marie's Lion was passed on to...Mike.