100 Words

One man in his time plays many parts.

William Shakespeare

When I think about playing a part, I immediately think of memorizing lines. Until recently, I never thought about other aspects.

Now, I realize that a script gives actors a plan of action. Actors know when to enter and exit scenes. They know where to enter and exit—stage left or stage right. They know when to speak and when to be quiet. Unless their part intersects with another character, they ignore another’s role.

Why have I been considering parts? During the past three years, my husband and I have found ourselves involved in several life dramas. Many nightly prayers have included “Show us our part.”

We have chosen roles. Others have chosen for us. Which do we cast aside? Once we have chosen, when do we enter and exit?

One person wondered why others aren’t doing their part. They are. Friends and relatives have given support that is invisible to most. Prayers, a listening ear, and small services have lasting value.

I’ve survived hard things such as traveling through heavy snow only to reach deserted, ice-covered roads as well as caring for young cousins in a foreign country where I didn’t know the language. (The children didn’t either.)

I used to think that hard things were newsworthy or unusual or perhaps scary like the two mentioned above. In other words, hard things were HARD. Now I know better.

Each of us has our own, particular, everyday hard. A few hard things my family accomplished during 2025:

I sent over 100 Christmas cards, most purchased before Christmas 2020. Sending cards was just “too hard” previous years.

My husband cooked an enormous pork roast that had lingered in my freezer. Every time I saw it, I thought, “That’s too hard for today.”

I scheduled long-overdue doctor’s appointments. It had been “too hard” to clear my schedule and navigate the appointment maze.

Our family made nine exhausting, round trips to North Carolina via I-95 and I-85. Not to mention the I-40 nightmare.

What is hard for 2026? Sticking to The Mission. (See here.)

Months ago, my husband and I went to a community walking event. We are part of our county walking club, and it seemed like a good way to spend a few retirement hours. It wasn’t. As we walked across the parking lot after leaving the event early, we made a decision. Before undertaking activities that seemed enticing, we would ask ourselves Is this part of the mission.

What is my mission? Loving the people in my life, especially the youngest and oldest. Writing projects that have been on hold for years. Some are pressing. Others are very pressing. It’s been two years since I was asked to write a sequel that could have been completed in months. Obligations and non-obligations have pulled me away.

What is my husband’s post-retirement mission? Supporting my work and getting our thirty-three-year-old home ready for sale. He’s checked off a few things.

Long ago, a friend said, “I feel the breath of sixty on my neck.” Well, forty years later, I am feeling the breath of seventy on my neck. It’s past time to define the mission and stick to it.