It’s been 62 days since my husband went home to be with Jesus, and you know what I’ve learned? Life just keeps going.
Very well-intentioned people remind me of that fact constantly. It’s exhausting.
Please don’t get me wrong… in these 2 months I’ve had the insane privilege of spending quality time with my children, and family, and served others, I’ve managed to laugh and make stupid jokes… I’m functioning and I’m OK. Furthermore, we’re in the home-stretch of wedding preparations, and it is an exciting time for our family. But (and it’s a big “but”) the one person on the planet that I’d be most enjoying these moments with, is no longer by my side.
Yes, life goes on… but, it goes on in a changed fashion, for me. It goes on at the same relentless pace it always had, but for me, it feels like every joyous occasion is underscored with the pangs of sadness and a palpable acknowledgement of who is missing: Whose hand I’m not holding, whose hand is not on the small of my back as we enter a room, and who I don’t get to text message or send any pictures to. It’s just very strange how life deals these complicated hands to us, and we are expected to play our hands, we cannot fold, we must call… and just keep playing. Even if we’re dealt a 3 and 7 offsuit. (yes, that’s a poker reference) .
I’m convinced that the only reason I can function and play this awful hand with the confidence of a person who has pocket rockets, is because of Christ. Life definitely goes on… and the fact that I can move and acclimate is because He who lives in me, is greater than he who lives in this world. This world wants me to fold, heck, I did emotionally, but Christ… once again, saved me from myself.
When the forces of this present world want me to fold, again, my Jesus whispers, ‘keep playing, remember’,… “I’ve overcome the world”.
Walking through grief sucks.
I keep hearing it’s the price one pays for loving; therefore, the more we love a person, the more it’s gonna hurt once they leave. And… in marriage… one of you is always going to go, first… and leave the other behind. Unless, God sees fit to take you both at the same time. I used to think that dying in my sleep would be the most peaceful and ideal way to get called home. Walking this new journey though grief and loss, I know that the most peaceful way to go is at the same time as your person. That way neither one of you, have to, “play this hand”.
In our vows we promise, “until death do us apart,” because, it’s a foregone conclusion that one half of the pair will die first. I never paid attention to that, until now.
The price we pay for loving and being loved is expensive. But, I can tell you wholeheartedly, that these 62 days of the worst pain and sadness I’ve ever endured in my life, have NOTHING on every second I got to spend with my husband. Next to him; holding his hand, feeling his hand on the small of my back as we walked into a room, hearing him laugh, kissing him, and exchanging the most silly of text messages with him.
Life will continue to move forward, and I will continue to “play this hand”… and on the bad days, I will rest in knowing that I LOVED, and was LOVED… what a freaking gift!
I’m grateful to Jesus for redeeming marriage for me, through my beautiful husband, and using him to teach me and show me how Jesus loves us, the church, His bride; sacrificially, and patiently, and with this, “all-in” passion.
“Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” Alfred Lord Tennyson
I loved, and he loved me right back, and it was pretty freaking great.