God has put upon my heart to share a entry with you, dear friends, from my personal blog. It is from September of 2011, not even two months after my sweet husband’s death.
I had something totally different in mind to post, but circumstances changed all of that. A friend my age lost her husband last Saturday, after a long and difficult illness. It caused me to take stock of my life, and look back on my journey, which I call “unimagined” (http://unimaginedjourney.blogspot.com ).
What I want to say to her, and to each widow reading this today is this: God is enough. He will pull you through. I read my earler blog entries, and I see God’s footprints, walking along beside me. More often than not, I see only one set of prints, because He carried me for months. His handprints are all over my heart.
Even though my sons and I are doing well, we still hurt. We cry. We reminisce and wonder what could have been.
In the midst of pain, I continue to cling to the promises of God, and to songs like this, which is still my all-time personal favorite to run to:
In great contrast to the joyous entry I had earlier in the month, I open my heart to let you see something totally different–anger.
And here, 1 1/2 years after beginning this journey, I can earnestly say that in time it can get better.
Paralyzed in the car…
September 18, 2011
Yep, I’m just laying it out there. Went to Sunday School & church, had great messages both places, learning about leaving a legacy after you die.
That’s something we should all strive for as Christians, to leave this place a little (or a lot!) better than when we first arrived.
But I find myself really angry today.
As we drove home in the car following church, the boys were, well, being boys, playing with two balloons in the backseat. Their playful banter and laughing sounded so much like their dad’s.
The closer we got to the house, the angrier I got. As we pulled into the driveway, I glanced at that truck that he loved to drive. I parked the car beside it, as I’ve done thousands of times.
The boys scurried out, worried that one of the wayward balloons would find its way to the dog, never a good combination.
I had my door open, purse in hand…but I could not move. Must’ve been 5 minutes before the boys realized that I wasn’t behind them, coming back to witness their mother with her head against the steering wheel of the car, sobbing.
I am so mad, God!
Why did you take this wonderful husband and father? He had his whole future mapped out, our future, and now he’s gone. Is the future he planned for the four of us the future path I continue to follow? Or is there something else that You have in store for us?
It’s hard being three when you’re used to being four. I know where he is, but I want him here with me, with our boys.
God, I’m not mad at You, I’m just mad about the change in our plans. Guess they didn’t coincide with Yours.
But I’m struggling. Struggling to find a routine that makes sense, that moves us in the right direction, and that keeps us looking toward You.
When does this get better?
Everyone says “give it time”. Well, I don’t have alot of time. I have two boys depending on me to be both mom & dad for now.
And for every good hour I have, I seem to have 4 that are not good. If my math skills don’t fail me, that’s only 20% of the time that my life doesn’t suck.
Sorry about that word, ‘suck’, but it’s how Mark himself described his dilemma, only 2 days before his death. He raised that oxygen mask with just me in the room and said, clear as day, “This sucks!”
My response? “I know it does, sweetie, but all we can do is fight & try to make tomorrow suck a little less.”
Those words spoke volumes about his situation. He knew he was in the fight of his life.
And I thought that this strong healthy man would pull through.
Now I’m the one who has to “pull through”…
the one that is determined to make “tomorrow suck a little less”. And it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever faced in my life.
Part of me wants to close all the drapes, go to bed, and curl up into the fetal position…for days.
But I can’t do that. I don’t have the luxury. I have the two most important parts of his legacy looking to me for strength & guidance.
And I couldn’t even get out of my car today.
Dear God in heaven, I know that when I am weak, You are strong.
Today, at least during this hour, You must be enormously strong for all three of us.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thank you, God, for the gift of hindsight today. Sometimes we tend to get caught up in the daily process of “being” and don’t take the time to look back to see where we were in relation to where we are now. By Your grace we are growing in faith. For those in deep dark despair, those who are angry, in shock, unable to feel like they can take a breath, be there. Just be. For those who are catching glimpses of happiness, of a new normal, we rejoice and give You all the glory. For those who feel all alone, we pray they find solace and friendship where they need it. We especially thank You for leading them here, to this site, where they will hopefully feel comfort and companionship. Help us to be strong enough for whatever our futures hold. In your blessed Son’s name we pray, Amen.