Grace in the Storm (a continuing journey) There are good days. There are bad days. For some reason, yesterday (Sunday) was a bad day. It came from out of nowhere. I watch my kids pretty close. I want to make sure they’re doing okay. Sure, I lost a wife. But they lost a mom. I think it was Abraham Lincoln who said, “No one is poor who had a godly mother.” My kids were very wealthy. My kids watch me pretty close. They want to make sure I’m doing okay. Sure, they lost a mom. But I lost a wife. I think it was Solomon who said, “A man who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.” I was very favored. The family had been together for Thanksgiving. Even in Bev’s absence, it was good to spend the holiday with each other. We spent the next day putting up Christmas decorations outside and inside. By the time they all left for their homes on Saturday evening, the house looked all festive for the Christmas season. I felt good when I went to bed that evening. I slept well. But when I woke up Sunday morning, something had changed. I just felt…I don’t know how to describe it…it was a new and strange feeling…I just felt real blue (although blue doesn’t even describe it). It was a feeling of sadness. Not a “pity-party” sadness. Not an “I need attention” sadness. Not a “depression” sadness. I guess I would call it a “reality” sadness. Somewhere between the time I went to sleep and the time I woke up, I was thrust into the reality of life without Bev. And it was a tough wake-up call. I went to church. I worshipped. I celebrated the baptism of 4 men and women who were pledging their allegiance to Jesus. I preached. I spoke with many people. But through it all, there was this blaring “reality” sadness that filled my heart, mind and soul. Following lunch, I went home to the recliner and thought I’d grab a little nap before a 5:00 meeting. I was so restless. I was constantly being reminded of the reality of life without Bev. No trips to look forward to. No dates to share. No dreams together. No goals to set. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The 5:00 meeting went well. Much was accomplished. We were actually making plans on how to carry on with the Promiseland Children’s Ministry Bev had created. Many wonderful people have stepped forward and are using their gifts of teaching and administration to keep this wonderful ministry going and growing. Following the meeting, I went home. The “reality sadness” continued to weigh heavy on me. I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t “busy myself” out of it. This reality was brutal. I sat with my laptop and started writing another post…the post about Bev’s birthday. I wrote…I cried…I paused…I wrote…I cried…I paused. The more I wrote and recalled wonderful moments with Bev, the unshakeable “reality sadness” started to let up. There was relief in remembering. There was peace in writing. And there was grace in the face of the reality of never seeing Bev on earth again. It seems that every time I am confronted with Bev’s absence, I am reminded of Bev’s presence with Jesus. So far, there has always been great peace in that reality. This morning, God brought a very special person into my life…a kind elderly gentleman at the Life Center. He and I are not much more than acquaintances, but I soon found out we have much in common. This kind gentleman knew Bev had died and that this was my first Thanksgiving without her. He asked me how I did through Thanksgiving. I told him I had a great weekend until yesterday. I talked about how rough Sunday had been. After allowing me to talk about it, he said, “I know exactly what you mean Rick.” “You do,” I replied? “I do,” he responded. “You see…my wife died about 20 years ago. I was about your age.” “I’m so sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t know…” He interrupted saying, “That’s okay. The only people who really know how you feel are those who have been through it.” This kind elderly gentleman had my attention. He continued, “I had some tough days after my wife died. It took some time to accept the reality of her death. But Rick, I want you to know, it will get better. You just keep living one day at a time. I promise, it will get better.” He went on to tell me that he believes God sends angels to help us through the days we struggle. I thanked the man for his time and words of encouragement. As I was walking out of the Life Center, I thought, “If God sends angels, this kind man was most definitely one of them.” I don’t know if anything I’ve just written makes sense. “Reality sadness” is hard to describe or define. All I know is that yesterday was the roughest day yet. But God brought me through it. He provided someone who has walked through the loneliness of losing your spouse in order to help me take a few baby steps in the healing process. I’m watching myself pretty close. Yes, I have lost my wife. I’m sure there will be more days filled with “reality” sadness. But today I was reminded that God won’t leave me alone in the grief. Wasn’t it Jesus who said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Thank You Father for never leaving me alone. Thank You for providing someone who would come alongside me and offer words of encouragement…someone who has been there…someone who has walked in my shoes. I pray You will continue to teach me how to trust You with this part of the journey and allow me to teach others to trust You as well. Until next time…
Posted on: Tue, 02 Dec 2014 13:20:09 +0000
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