The magic word

The first words out of my mouth (that weren't a scream or cry) were "NONONONONONO". How could this have happened? How could this be right? How could my husband actually be dead? How could this be real? How could a child I've poured so much into and tried so hard to love push that all away? How? Why? NO!

But this whole process seems to be about moving from a NO to a YES.

I'm not saying yes to the circumstances and the event, because they will eternally be wrong, be the result of sin in the world and evil at work. I am saying YES to the God who knows the beginning from the end and has the power of resurrection and redemption.

So, how does that look in real life? Yes is one of the hardest words to say when everything within is screaming NO! There seems to be an element of resignation to yes that accompanies the circumstances. I can never lie down and accept the painful situation, like God willed it, or like I'm passive and unaffected. That's just not me.

I want to fight, and fight, and fight some more. I want it all to work out in the end. I want there to be light at the end of the tunnel, hope just around the corner and good things ahead. But life's just not like that.

For several months, my mind knew logically that in an instant I had turned from a wife to a widow. My heart was broken. My life was completely changed. There was no way to go back, no way to negotiate. There was no way I could ever say yes to that.

Then, as time moved on, the truth started to move into my cells a bit more. Reality was real. And I had to decide that I was grieving, I needed to enter in. There was nothing to fight, except my own emotion and pain. I had to say yes to grief.

Now, day by day, I am moving forward. At times I push myself too hard and I feel the NO rise up inside me. That is my cue to slow down, rest and refresh. Acceptance is saying yes. I am not ever going to accept that this was a good thing that happened. I will just accept that it did. It happened. I experienced this and my life has continued.

I say yes to God in this. Yes God, I will look to you in the middle of it all. Yes God, you are strong and I need you. Yes God, you are faithful and unfailingly good in all situation. Yes God, you are worthy of my praise and I will look for ways to worship you (even if it seems small). Yes God, you still have a plan for my life. I may not like the way it's going right now, but yes God, you will make it fit, make it work and bring good to my life.

Yes God.

Many times I hear all kinds of trite sayings about the will of God. I don't believe that God is some kind of remote being any more than I believe He's a fairy god mother in the sky. He is completely Other than us, and above yet within all that we are. Our perspective is so limited. We will see so much more when we are eternal beings. For now, we are weighed down by our bodies and our finite minds.

What other thing can we do but say yes? At this stage, I don't even know. I could fight and be angry at God, life and my husband. I could sit down in the dust and cry for the rest of my life. I could put on a happy face, kick up my heels and act like a carefree person. None of those things are real and true to where I am at now.

There is a point I am reaching (and I know others who are in the same predicament) where I know that the only solution to moving forward is to say yes. I must find the place of thankfulness. In time, I will have to say yes to life again. But I'm not there yet.

Step out of the ruins and start to see the possibilities. Your grief has not ended, but the weight of your grief is lifting. Do not cast it off: continue pour out the loss of your dearly loved husband and recognize the trauma that follows you from his loss and the loss of your daughter. Do not sit down under it, but raise up your head. You are a child of the King. Say YES to me.

You do not need to be married to have all that you had in marriage because I am your bridegroom in all but the physical. Do not deny my pleasure to give you all that you need, and to be your protector, your provider, your wise guide, your home and your stillness, your future and curator of all that is on the past.

Allow me to give you what is my pleasure to give. Even what seems frivolous or impractical has purpose. Be lavish in loving me, even if it feels strange at times. You only ever give me pleasure. As you gave your husband, so you gave me.