Category: Grief

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In His Time

 

Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.   ~James 4:14 KJV

I had the sad occasion of attending a funeral recently.  One of my best friends from high school lost his beautiful wife to cancer.  When I received the news, it was like a sucker punch to my gut.  It came across my phone and I just had to sit in silence, looking blankly at my phone screen, and praying for my friend and his children, who are all under the age of nine.

I hate this.  I hate that my friend has to walk this path.  I don’t want anyone to have to endure this pain, much less my friends.

God is so loving in His ways.  As I sat amongst my high school friends at the funeral that I didn’t want to attend, God used this opportunity to heal me a little more.  A story was shared by one of the speakers that washed over me like aloe on a sunburn; soothing me in a way I didn’t even realize I needed.

Walking in an apple orchard after a storm, many of the apple blossoms blown off their branches and onto the ground, covering it in a beautiful blanket of color and fragrance.  Apple blossoms, if left on the branches bloom and then an apple grows.  The purpose of the apple blossom is to grow the apple.  What about the blossoms that are blown from the branches, did they serve their purpose?

The speaker shared that instead of thinking that the Creator, God, intended every apple blossom to yield fruit; think about the blossoms that don’t yield fruit.  They die too soon, too early, so there’s no apple.  As you are walking through the orchard and stepping on the blossoms underfoot, a wonderful fragrance rises in the air.  Looking throughout the orchard at the fallen blossoms, it is beautiful ground covering that lightens and stimulates the vision, bringing joy.

Each of those blossoms has a purpose and a lifespan that only God knows.  While we may say in sadness that the fallen blossom didn’t yield an apple; God says, I intended that one to be on the ground when you walked through the orchard today.  I wanted you to smell the wonderful fragrance of apple blossoms.  I wanted you to see their beauty all around you.  I used them for My purpose.  I never intended for those blossoms to yield apples.  Some of the blossoms bring joy in their short time here by leaving the branches early; while others stay on the branches for a long time and bring joy in yielding apples.  God numbers our days and when we have fulfilled His purpose, He calls His children Home.

As I sat there listening to this story, I wept.  My husband died at the age of 42.  My friend’s wife was 45.  So young.  Too soon…for us; not God.  You see, my husband and my friend’s wife and all of our loved ones who left this earth before we were ready for them to leave; they served His purpose.  God said, “Well done, good and faithful servant, come home.”  For some, they brought joy in just their fragrance.  For others, they yielded an apple and it was delicious.

This brought me such peace.  It reminded me that God is in control.  Nothing happens without passing through His Hands first, and it is always good. I can praise God for the fragrance, even though an apple never grew.

Dear Lord, I just am so overwhelmed by how You work in my life.  I am so humbled by Your love and care for me.  I pray that if I am here for a short time, my fragrance is sweet; and if I am here for a long time, my apple is delicious to others and You.  I love You, Lord!  Amen

Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in February 2015

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There Are No Do-Overs

 

I have a secret to tell…I am selfish, controlling, and I’m not always happy.  Phew!  I got that out!  Now, for an explanation…

But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.  Therewith bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which are made after the likeness of God.  Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing.  My brethren, these things ought not so to be- James 3:8-10 KJV

I am almost four years into this grief journey, and as I type this article I am preparing for this ministry’s upcoming November 2014 conference in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  I will be co-presenting on the topics of Dating and Courage.  Then, I will be speaking at our Love Lights ceremony about grieving with hope and being open to God’s new calling in our lives.

As I march into the days and hours leading up to the conference, I have been bombarded with flashbacks of terrible moments at the end of my husband’s life; the moments where I did not use my tongue to God’s glory.  Those moments are moments I wish I could erase.  The things I said and decisions I made were made in my flesh, thinking I had more time.

Several days before what would be Bill’s death, we were in the transplant wing and it was getting late so I was preparing to leave to go to the hotel for the night.  Bill asked me to spend the night in his room.  On the transplant wing, you cannot use the patient’s bathroom or their bedding.  There is no comfortable place to lie down in the room, and any time you have to use the restroom you have to leave the wing. Then, to come back, you have to go through a series of doors and a hand-washing station to enter again.  I had been on caregiver watch for several weeks, had been at the hospital since before breakfast, and I was very tired.  I told him I needed to go home, so I could re-fuel and come back to love on him the next day.  I thought we’d have “tomorrow”.  I never slept with my husband again; nor did I ever wake up near him again.

The last conversation I had with my husband was in ICU on Friday, February 11, 2011.  He had just had his breathing tube removed and his voice was raspy.  He was lucid for the first time in days, and his medical team was talking about taking him back up to the transplant wing.  There was a lot of hope in that ICU cubical that day.  Bill’s best friend from work and two other friends were visiting us, and they had travelled a long distance to visit him.  Bill wanted just me and kept saying to me, “I love you; I love you; I love you” and holding tightly to my hands and pulling me close and kissing me – over and over again.  I felt the pull of his friends wanting time with him and I told him I would see him soon and gave some of my time to them…I would never have another conversation with him again.

I am not looking back when I share these moments (and there are many more).  I am simply sharing lessons with you.  Do not take the present moment for granted.  Love like you don’t have tomorrow.  Forgive as though your life depends on it.  Share as though you are the only resource available.  Speak with love.  Once the moment is over, you will regret it if you didn’t handle it with grace and love.  There are no do-overs.  Satan uses these moments to attack me and stunt my grief journey.  I have to call on my sisters and brothers in Christ to carry me when I am attacked with these moments.

God is good and He sustains me, through the Holy Spirit who strengthens and comforts me. Prayer supports me.  I can, through Christ, move past these memories and into the Truth.  Bill knows I loved him and knows that in both of those moments; I made the correct choice with the information I had at the time.  Bill has forgiven and, in Heaven, he has forgotten those moments and is busy worshipping his Savior.  That thought helps to remind me that I need to be busy about the Lord’s work here.  If I sit and think on these moments that I could have handled better, I am looking back and not moving forward.  If I am busy about the Lord’s work, then I am moving forward and thinking about my Savior; not regrets, memories, and what ifs.

Sweet Father,   Thank You for reminding me to look to You when the memories of what ifs come to mind.  Thank You for Your Grace and Mercy and for Your Word which sustains me.  Thank You for my brothers and sisters in Christ who continue to point me to You.  I love You, Lord!  In Jesus name, Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in November 2014

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Whithersoever I Go

 

Have I not commanded thee?  Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed; for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.  Joshua 1:9 KJV

The grief journey is a lonely journey and one you have to travel yourself – no one can do it for you.  It takes a lot of intentional work and an earnest heart that is focused on healing, surviving, and thriving.  You must be focused on your Savior – eyes up, looking to the Savior; ears open, listening to the Savior’s voice; feet walking on the path set out.  These must be done day in and day out.

I am now coming up to the four year anniversary of my husband’s Homecoming, or Promotion, as I like to call it.  On February 14, 2015, it will be four years since I last kissed my husband’s lips.  It’s been a long journey.  When I look back, it doesn’t seem possible that I am here at this spot in the road.

Where am I?  Who am I?

If I take note of where I’ve been and who I’ve met along the way, it is clear that I am an abundantly blessed woman.  Clearly, I am favored in God’s eyes.  He has been with me “whithersoever” I have been and for that I am grateful.

During this journey I have hidden from Him, not spoken to Him, cried out to Him, longed for His return, and beseeched Him.  I have loved Him, understood His answer to my prayers about my husband’s life, forgiven Him, renewed my relationship with Him, and felt His presence.

I have met some wonderful people along the way who have been like life preservers thrown in the water to a drowning person.  I would not have met these wonderful, dear friends had I not been on this journey.  They saved me on a particular day when I needed them – God sent them to me to help me to look up…to Him.  I have been on trips and tours that I would have never taken had I not been on this journey.  I have laughed really hard.  I have met sisters who know my thoughts because they are on this journey too and I don’t have to explain, they just know.  God knew I needed them.

Most of all, I have come to realize that God has a purpose for me.  He has a ministry that He needs me for and He has grown or is growing all of the skills and tools I need to accept His calling.  I would not have had these had I not taken this journey.

As I look back down the road I have travelled so far, the constant that I see along every stretch of the road, around every bend, in every valley and on every mountaintop, is Christ.  He has never left me.  I may have walked ahead or stayed behind, but my Savior was there the whole time.  He has had His eye on me; working with me, on me – sending me people, resources, experiences that just strengthen my roots in Him.

I like the new me that God is perfecting.  She is funny, carefree, deep, loving and is able to show grace and mercy to those around her (most days).  She gets really mad, but doesn’t hold a grudge.  She celebrates when she sees her brothers and sisters in Christ triumphing.  She also has grown a heart that is not afraid to love those that the world sees as broken.  She believes in restoration and redemption and believes that until you take your last breath, there is a chance if God is in it.

I don’t know what God has in store for me, but I know He has a purpose for me and he will be with me every step of the way.  I just have to be strong and of good courage and not let fear limit my ability to be obedient to Him.

Dear Lord, Thank You for never leaving me and for going wherever I go.  Thank You for loving me and for providing me with experiences that grow me into the person You need me to be.  I love You!  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in November 2014

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Get Up – Stay In The Game

 

And when the fowls came down upon the carcasses, Abram drove them away.  Genesis 15:17 KJV  [Please read Genesis 15:1-17]

This article came out of a great conversation with another writer on this team.  We were talking about how easy it is to be sad.  I hasten to add that it is necessary and expected that you should feel sadness during your grief journey, especially early on in the journey.  However, as you walk this path, the unbearable sadness should wane and you should choose to live well.  [Author’s Note:  There are times when medication is needed to help people get through because of a clinical condition and, in those times, one should seek medical advice and adhere to that advice.]

My daughter has played field hockey for the last four years.  This game is the perfect combination of feminism and strength.  In my experience, these female athletes are girlie girls.  Before the warm ups and games, everyone is getting their hair braided with pink ribbons.  Even their uniforms are kilts.  Then the game begins and to play correctly, you have to have strength and endurance and you have to fight for the ball.

During the game, sometimes the sticks of the opposing players hit each other which causes their knuckles to “clang” against the opponents sticks.  This feels, from your hand to your elbow, like a tuning fork after it is hit…a numbing throb…it hurts.  Field hockey game clocks don’t stop, so you have to play on.  You will see these girls continue running and flinging their hand in the air to make the throbbing stop until they have full control of their fingers again.  The player keeps going and just shakes it off and the game continues.

As I think about this particular injury, it is much like the grief walk.  You are hurt and it throbs through your body.  You can just let the throb go on and on and do nothing, or you can push through and shake yourself and tell yourself to go on.   It’s hard and you get tired; but you have to push through that…have endurance.  You have to make yourself stay in the game.   You have to keep on, keepin’ on.  You can’t wallow in this.  You have to shake yourself and get back up and keep going.  God has this; but you are called to do some of the work.  Just like in the verses of Genesis 15:1-17.  God wanted to bless Abrahm; but Abrahm had to drive away the birds.  God could have done it Himself; but he called Abrahm to do his part.

So, what are you called to do.  You are asked to get up each day; eat healthy; exercise; and keep on going.  If you are doing well; everything else falls into place.  If you have children; they will follow your lead.  You have to do your part.  That is different for each person.  It feels good sometimes to be the saddest person in the room; but that is not healthy, nor does it Glorify Christ.

What if you haven’t been doing that?  What if you have fallen into the habit of being sad, and it is not a clinical condition or early in your grief journey?  Do better – starting now!  Pledge to yourself and your Savior that tomorrow will be a better day…and DO IT!  Get up and meditate on God’s word; make yourself smile; brush your teeth; make a doctor’s appointment; wear clothes that make you feel pretty; fix your hair (or get a haircut); get a manicure; listen to music that makes you smile; pick one area of your life and make it orderly.    Every day, add another thing and before you know it; you will feel better.

You have to stay in the game and you are called to do your part.  You want your life to honor Christ and to honor the life of your husband.  Would he want you to lay in bed and cry all day?  Would he want you to withdraw from life?  The answer is NO!  Smile and shine your husband’s testimony – honor the life he lived by living well.  Honor the life Christ has given you by living well for Him.

This all sounds easy, but it’s not.  You have to start with your head and your thoughts and then you have to take action.  You can do this!  Shake it off!  Stay in the game!

Dear Lord, Thank You for placing people in my life to remind me to stay in the game.  Thank You for loving me through this.  I will do better and I will purpose to glorify You in my life.  Amen.

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in October 2014

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Great Plans

 

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.  Jeremiah 29:11 KJV

Christians quote this verse a lot.  It is a “go to” verse for us; used in many situations.  It wasn’t until a few months ago that God washed the intention of this verse over me anew.

Practically all of my adult life, my road has been the “hard road”; many times due to my willful choices.  My first marriage (which ended in divorce) ended because my husband just didn’t love me… actually he didn’t love God so it was impossible for him to love me or even himself.  So, with a three year old to care for, I became a single mom.  For five years I was a single mom and during that time I was introduced to my second husband, Bill.  He loved me sacrificially.  We were married in 2006 and for six months were blissfully in love.  Then Bill got sick and for the next four years, I learned about sacrificial love and God allowed me the honor of loving Bill as he walked Home.  Bill died on Valentine’s Day.  I was a single mom again, and it was so hard!  I had counted on growing old with Bill; making a ton of memories and growing our testimonies together.  We had so many plans that were cut short.  It was very hard to accept that God did not have the same plans that we did…that I did.  It took me some time to work on my heart and allow God to minister to me and show me that His plans are always good.

As I walked out of the dark shadows of grief, I realized that the only way was to lean on Christ.  So, I forced myself to read the scriptures, combing them for promises and clinging to those.  I wrote down the addresses of each promise so I could refer to them often.  Of course, Jeremiah 29:11 was at the top of the list.

I would tell myself in my deepest moments of grief that the Lord has thoughts of peace toward me to give me (Sherry) an expected end.  Peace wasn’t what I was feeling; but I continued to cling to that promise.

In recent weeks, I have begun to see what the Lord has planned for me at this point in my journey- thoughts of peace.  He is lovingly preparing me to receive a blessing.  If I had received it three and half years ago, or even six months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it or appreciate it or know what to do with it.  He has allowed me to grieve and lean on Him as he prepared a blessing for me designed to meet my needs where I am on the road right now.  It brings me peace.  It brings me closer to Him.

Had I not travelled this road – allowing time for stopping along the way and sitting down to deal with the vantage point at that spot in the road and then standing up and walking a little further – I would have missed all of the healing that I have been honored to have.  I have met fellow travelers along the way who have strengthened me, sharpened me, imparted wisdom to me and held me.  I am better for having travelled this road.  I have peace.  The Lord has given me a new mission and my heart bursts at the honor of being entrusted with another job assignment from God Almighty.

So, my dear sisters, wherever you are on this road, please know that the Lord has thoughts of peace toward you.  If you are walking or sitting; be open to His calling and know He has great plans for you.  While you wouldn’t choose this journey and there are a lot of moments of darkness and loneliness; there are wonderful moments where you actually feel the Hand of God on you.  There are wonderful brothers and sisters in Christ who you are Blessed to meet along the way that change your life in ways you could not have imagined.

I find myself going to the Throne Room in prayer with a small little bucket and asking God to pour His Blessings on me.  God just smiles at me most days and says, “Sherry, I’ll wait while you go back and get a bigger bucket.  I’ve got big plans for you, my sweet daughter, and that small bucket you brought won’t hold them.”  My mind can’t comprehend the love He has towards me.  It is only when I lean back into His arms that I realize the Blessings are coming, and then the peace comes.

Stay on this road, sweet sisters. Take time and stop to rest when you need to, but continue the journey.  God has great plans for you and they include peace.

Dear Lord,   Thank you for your promises in scripture.  Thank you for loving me.  Thank you for peace.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in September 2014

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He Knows My Name

Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee…  ~Jeremiah 1:5 KJV

Sweetie…baby…honey…cutie…darling…babe…

My husband had all kinds of endearments for me and with the inflection of love in his voice when he used them, I loved being called his.  My husband was half Korean and he had a Korean endearment that he used for me that was really special.

He would wrap his arms around me and whisper them in my ear as we watched TV or just before falling asleep.  He would yell them up the stairs when I was in another room and he was working on something.  They were a form of greeting when I answered his phone calls.

I was chosen, cherished, loved, special in his eyes.  He saw me.

I have found as I have walked this grief journey that this is one of the things I miss the most.  Feeling those arms; hearing those endearments and leaning back knowing that my husband picked me out of all of the people that had come through his life.  He wanted me; cherished me; loved me; saw me…and gave me his name.

When he died, I found myself feeling lost.  I still was his.  My friends and family saw me has his widow – the one left behind.  I still sign his name when I write or identify myself.  Who am I?  If he is gone; who am I now?

Many of my friends…well, most of my friends are married.  As I socialized with them, I found myself hurting because I watched as they interacted with their husbands – chosen, cherished, loved, special…  I so missed that feeling.

On a particularly dark day, I turned to scripture and was reminded of something.  When I accepted Christ as my Savior, He chose me.  He cherishes me.  He loves me.  I am special.  He sees me.  He comforts me.  And He wants what is best for me.  Before I was formed in my mother’s womb, He chose me.  Before I was born, I was special to Him.  He has beautiful endearments that he whispers to me throughout the day.  I see His love in nature – rainbows, gentle breezes, sunshine.  I see His love in my friends – compassion, thoughtfulness, hugs.  I am cared for, chosen, cherished.  If I hold fast to His promises and turn to Him, He will restore me.  He will Bless me.  He will hold me.  He knows my heart.  He knows what I can’t even bring myself to admit.

He knows my name.

Sisters, hold fast to this.  It can be so tough on this journey and the loneliness sometimes is almost unbearable.  If you turn to the Savior, He can and will comfort you and whisper loving words to your heart.  He knows your name too.

Dear Lord, I am so thankful that you knew me before I was formed.  When I look to you I feel chosen, cherished and loved.  Thank you for being my Savior and for loving me.  Thank you for knowing my name and choosing me.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in August 2014

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Bittersweet

“So Moses brought Israel from the Red Sea…and they went three days in the wilderness and found no water.  And when they came to Marah, they could not drink of the waters of Marah for they were bitter…And the people murmured against Moses, saying, What shall we drink?  And he [Moses] cried unto the Lord; and the Lord showed him a tree, which when he had cast into the water, the waters were made sweet.”  Exodus 15:22 -25 (KJV)

As I sat down to write the words for this post, I intended to write about memorials and markers.  As I prayed about what the Lord would have me share, this passage of scripture came to my mind so clearly and the words poured out of me.  I remember leaning on this passage so heavily when my husband was ill.  Every doctor visit was bad news and disappointment.  At home, it was so painful to watch my husband suffer the effects of his illness and to be so helpless.  My husband was unable to work for a time period due to his illness so our comfortable life became very uncomfortable…or should I say very quickly unaffordable.  Every aspect of our once carefree life became hard and heavy.

My husband in his most quiet moments, when it was just the two of us and, even when I wandered into a room in which he was alone, was the definition of peace.  He didn’t rail at God and ask why.  He wasn’t mad at his diagnosis.  He was the definition of peace and contented joy, even in our darkest hour.   He would often say that he had the golden ticket.  If he was called Home, he got to start eternity in the presence of his Savior; and if his body was miraculously cured here on earth, he got to spend more time with us.  He would always end with,  “Either way, I’m a big winner!”

Me, on the other hand, I was a quiet Mara.  I knew that God would be glorified in whatever happened and that He would sustain me, but I was growing quietly bitter the longer our journey took.  It wasn’t something that was apparent, it was a quiet background noise to my everyday life.

Then, February 14, 2011, the Lord lovingly allowed me to realize that He was going to bring Bill Home.  That was my most bitter moment of all.  As I put my lips to my husband’s lips in the ICU at Duke Hospital and we kissed for the last time this side of eternity, God gently loosened my grasp on my husband and took him Home.  At that moment, my heart wasn’t broken, it was ripped from my chest and there was complete emptiness in its place.   How could my heart heal when it had been removed from my body?  How could God ask this of me?

As each minute; hour; day; week; month; year and now years passed…God sent me experiences;  one by glorious one that were filled with sweetness.  Slowly, the pain (that never completely goes away)was insulated by sweet memories to the point that I could bear the journey God asked me to take.  I am to the point now that I can bear the pain because of the sweetness that surrounds it; if that makes sense.  I laugh more days than I cry.  I can remember fun times spent with my husband and not feel the heaviness of him not being here.

Just as in the scripture above, the water was too bitter to drink and the Lord had to show Moses God’s hand-crafted tree.  Once it was dipped into the water, the water was made sweet and the Israelites were able to drink it.  In much the same way, God has taken my bitterness and He has dipped His beautiful hand into it and, in doing so, has made it turn to sweetness.  And with this change, I am able to bear the journey and, as hard as it is to believe, there have been many points on the journey that were very sweet.

Dear Lord, Help me to remember that if Your hand is in it, it will be sweet.  Help me to remember to lean in and feel Your presence in everything.  Help me to surrender to You and to allow Your love to sustain me.  Thank You for turning the bitter and unbearable into bearable sweetness.  In Your Precious Son’s Name, Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in June 2014

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We Are More Than Conquerors!

with Cristina DiMascio

“In all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.  For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” ~Romans 8:37-39

My Pastor sent me a question as Mother’s Day approached.  His question was, “What makes you feel defeated as a mother?”  I had never thought so pointedly about this question.  But now I was.  The answer: I felt defeated when my sweet daughter experienced heart-exploding pain when her step-dad passed away.  The man who filled the “daddy” spot in her heart for years was now gone.

Recently, I was cleaning out a storage bin used to put all of my daughter’s school work in.  She is 17, so it was filled to overflowing, as you can imagine, and not everything was museum-worthy.  My daughter, Cristina, was 14 when my husband passed away.  He had been sick for over four years at that point.  I found a beautiful story she had written when she was probably 12 or 13 years old called, “The Miracle”.

People always thought Cristina was my husband’s biological child, not his stepdaughter.  He loved her wholly as though she had his blood running through her veins.  He was her father, daddy, papa; she just spelled those sentiments:  B-I-L-L.  They had so much fun together and he was a strict disciplinarian, in love, with her too.

My daughter has been very quiet since Bill’s death.  She doesn’t want to talk about it to anyone.  It has just been in the last year that she will even remember fun times out loud with others, even me.  She seems to be doing OK – everyone handles this grief journey differently.

As I read through her story, my heart felt the defeated feeling I feel whenever I realize I can’t shield her from pain in this life.  I can only point her to the Comforter and Healer in Christ as her Savior.

Here is her story – written in her words with no changes (when she was about 11 or 12):

The Miracle

By Cristina DiMascio

Once upon a time, there was a family – a mom, a stepdad, a girl, a dog, another dog, and a cat.  The stepdad got sick.  At first, the family thought it was mild, but then it got worse.  The family took the stepdad to the doctor, then the hospital, where they waited for hours.  The next 2 days were bad and the stepdad got worse.  The family took the stepdad to the hospital again, where he got lots of visitors.  Also, he stayed there for 3 days.  For the next few days, the stepdad got worse and worse and every day the mom went up to see him.  Then one day, when the doctors thought they could do nothing , the girl prayed her hardest (harder than she ever had before).  The doctors came in a few hours later to check the machines and they were great.  They told the mom and girl that he could go home the next day.  They were a happy family again.  THE END

This was an actual account of one of my husband’s many hospital visits.  As I sat reading this again, three years after the death of my husband, I was struck by the childlike faith that oozed from the page.  She loved her stepdad and prayed harder than she ever had before and he was healed.  This was true for the short term, but his disease would progress and viciously steal his earthly life from him.

I felt defeated as a mom as I read this.  This story had a happy ending, joy because he could go home the next day, healed and “they were a happy family again”.  Why couldn’t I give her this ending forever, or at least until her stepdad had reached old age and they had made many more memories together?

Christ came alongside me as my thoughts were in this dark place to remind me He heard her prayer.  She wanted her stepdad to be healed and strong and no longer ill.  Christ gave her the desires of her heart.  Because of our short-sightedness, we assumed healing meant something else.   Don’t misunderstand me, Christ is fully capable of permanent earthly healing and could have performed that kind of miracle in this case.  But instead, Christ wanted us to grow our childish faith into a more mature Christian faith and in order to do that, He needed Bill in Heaven and us, as close to Him as possible.

We have the wonderful assurance of a home in Heaven.  We know that we will see Bill again and it will be a grand reunion for all of us.  Cristina has a compassion that she would never have known had she not experienced this grief.  She wants to be a physician’s assistant in Oncology, helping others go through what she has gone through and give them hope.  God shines brightly in her.

So, I am not defeated. In Christ, I am a victor and I have, through Christ as my Savior, won the victory.  A miracle has occurred.  In our brokenness, Christ has ministered to many.  May His light continue to shine brightly in us.

Dear Lord, My heart hurts when I think about the pain my child has experienced in the loss of her stepdad.  I feel defeated.  I thank You, Lord, for helping me to remember that you have already won the victory and that I just must trust in You and defeat goes away and victory is in its place.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in May 2014

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I Am Mara

And she said unto them, Call me not Naomi, call me Mara; for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me.  Ruth 1:20 KJV

I am Mara!

I try to laugh every day and try to keep my negativity from getting the best of me.  When someone has an idea (including me), I have the ability within moments to (in my head) come up with several reasons that idea should never see the light of day.  When I hear news (good or bad), I immediately have several thoughts about how the good can turn bad and the bad can turn to worse.  I fight it all day, every day.  The only way I can combat my natural tendency to do this is to think of at least one positive thing for each negative thing that comes to mind.  Over the years of making myself do this; I have been able to turn the tide of my natural tendency towards bitterness into a studied habit of positive thoughts and actions.

Widowhood has not made this natural tendency towards bitterness easier.  Bitterness is an emotion that I fight against almost every day since my Bill’s home-going, or promotion, as I like to call it.  Some days it just seeps from my pours and during others it is a shadow in the room of my life that I can refuse to step into.

On the days it seeps from me, I find myself just wanting to wallow in my anger and pick fights on innocent victims.  People who are driving on the road with me…my pets…my daughter…my friends.  Thankfully, these days are few and far between.

I am three years down this road called Grief.  I still have days of sadness and loneliness, that make me bitter sometimes.  I wanted to walk this journey fast and get through it and be healed and move on.  I don’t want to take time and wait.  I want to be loved again.  I want to go to a restaurant and ask for a table for two in a quiet corner to just spend time with someone special.  I want back-up when I have to discipline my teenager – a voice louder than mine that reminds her to “respect your mother and my wife”.  I want to go on vacation and let my left hand drop from my lounge chair by the pool only to be caught by a strong, right hand and held.  I am bitter…Mara.

Then my loving Savior whispers into my heart, “I am here and I love you!”   I am reminded that Christ chose me; not at my best, but my worst.  He died for me for the sole purpose that I could spend eternity with Him because He wants me.

For some strange reason, He needs me to walk this journey.  He doesn’t want me to be sad, angry or bitter.  He wants me to take those emotions off like heavy coats and leave them with Him.  He wants me to lean on Him for being wholly loved; to discipline my daughter and know He will lovingly guide her because she has Him in her heart too; and to walk the beach while on vacation sharing time with Him.

When I lean on Him, everything just seems to fall into focus.  My loneliness slips away; my sadness diminishes; my heart is full; peace is with me; contentment is part of my wardrobe; and everything is ok.  I am even ok with being asked to walk this journey and some days, people see Christ in me and say I am inspiring.  (I know this is not me, but Christ in me.)

These are the days when that bitterness is a shadow that I don’t step into.  These are the days when Mara is not my name.  These are the days that I am surrendered and lay my head down at night feeling accomplished in Christ with a smile on my face.

I’m not there yet, but I am still on the road.  And it is on this road that I am finding that Mara is getting further and further behind me and the name Joy is one I wear when I am surrendered and Christ is shining through me.

I cannot encourage you enough to leave Mara behind and choose to be Joy.  Mara is a season, not a destination.  Joy is a destination that we are all working towards.

Dear Lord, I am so thankful that You allow me to have my Mara moments and love me through them.  I am so thankful that You love me through those moments and bring me into Joy-filled moments.  I cannot think of a more fulfilling love than the love I have in You.  Thank You for being with me on this journey and may I have more Joy moments in You.  I love You!  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in May 2014

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Take Your Mark

I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.  Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. – 1 Corinthians 9:23-25

Have you ever seen a swim meet?

At the start of the race, the swimmer steps onto the starting block and bends over in the starting position.  You can almost feel the muscles full of energy poised, ready to race.  The silence of the crowd as they hold their breath and wait for the starting signal to sound is palpable.

Have you ever seen a false start?  Everyone in the entire pool area is waiting for the start signal and one (or more sometimes) takes off before the signal.  The release of breath from those present is almost like a gasp.  The swimmer takes off down the length of the pool only to realize the race has not started.  They gave their all and it wasn’t time to race…yet.  They have to make their way back and climb out of the pool, shake off the excess water, get their head in the right place, and take their mark again.  The entire energy of the area is changed as the swimmers again take their mark.

Think about the training involved for the swimmer to get to the point of being ready for the race.  They have to do hours of repetitive strokes, perfecting their timing, the angle of their arms as they slice through the water, their turn at each end of the pool lane.  It takes a coach who sees the end potential to push the swimmer beyond what they think they can do.  It also involves conditioning.  Swimmers have to run and lift weights too.  They have to eat right and sleep right and have their thoughts on the end goal – competing and winning their race.

So, back to the swim meet.  The swimmer has put the work in.  The coach has put the work in.  The swimmer puts his earphones in his ears to hear the song that gets him in the zone and waits for his heat to be called.  Now, they get to the competition and they are ready to go and the crowd kicks in.  The family is there screaming encouragement.  He is ready!

I think this grieving journey is like that.  We are called to walk this path – it’s our pool.  We have many false starts and have to get back to our starting place and try again.  God puts “coaches” along the way to teach us; work with us; beckon to us to keep on “swimming”; people who sense God’s calling in our life.  We are asked to lift heavy things that in the long run grow us and make us stronger to handle heavier things further in our race.  We listen to music that inspires us and read scriptures that feed us.  We have a Heavenly Father that gives us proper rest.  Then, as we prepare to swim our race, we hear our friends and family screaming encouragement from all around the pool area; whether it is a heartfelt prayer on our behalf, an encouraging phone call or an invitation to dinner.  Their enthusiasm that we can win this race keeps us going.  When we have the false starts, it is what gets us back to the poolside and back on the starting block.

God has specifically and lovingly chosen us for this race.  He doesn’t want us to experience grief, but He knows that we will be able to help others if we have walked a similar path and He can use our hands and feet to comfort others.  He won’t leave us and He will prepare us along the way.

Dear Lord, Thank you for choosing me to glorify You.  I don’t see the strength that you see in me.  I submit to Your Will, my loving Father.  I know You will give me what I need and You will be with me as I run the race that You have set before me.  I love you, Father, and with Your help I will finish this race.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in April 2014