If you've experienced the loss of a significant loved one, you know what this means: your body is living, you are breathing, but you don't feel alive, you don't have joy, life and fullness in your heart.
I look around at others near me and reflect on how life can be filled with such simple pleasures. I struggle and then I see one of them: my daughter is a pretty frequent source of delight for me. She is a true blessing.
Then there are the areas of bitterness that want to take root in my soul: the systemic failure to keep my husband in hospital (or to provide appropriate supports) to keep him safe until medical intervention could be found and effective is a huge area. There is so much around the adoption, the Children's Aid Society, the way I have been treated as a prospective adoptive parent. One of my friends told me that out of our support group (probably 12-15 families) only one had a completely smooth adoption process. Every other family has had some kind of run-in with the organization that is supposed to be committed to permanence for kids. There are so many things adoptive parents don't want to tell you!
Now flip that on its head: alive but not living. That is what my husband is experiencing now. He is more alive than ever during his time on earth. He is filled with joy unspeakable, peace unimaginable and purpose, fulfillment and satisfaction on a level I can't even imagine. That is the life with Jesus in His world, in His true kingdom. Not one single hint of the heaviness that our bodies, and sin, bring to us. It's all freedom in every way.
It's been 20 months since my husband died. His 44th birthday was yesterday. I feel the loss deeply. I marvel now that it is still such a burden. At the same time, I see that most people around me assume that I am fine - because I look fine. They want me to be okay. They want to know that really I will be okay.
And all the widows who talked about being forgotten after the first year - well that has happened in a way. There are always the friends who stick by me, but the majority have disappeared. Everyone is so busy. If I ask for help, I need to plan for at least three alternatives if the person I ask can't help me. I feel discouraged. I feel completely overwhelmed. And I feel like there is no one who can really be there for me.
In a way, this is true.
However, I am looking back and seeing how things worked out. Some things were taken care of - often because I just found the energy and the ability within myself to get it done. Some things can be put off until a time of year when I have more energy and can handle it better. Some things I'll just leave until they have to be dealt with (hopefully not at a busy time at work!). Some things I need to say no to.
Life takes a lot of energy. I have to plan so much and make sure so many things are done, covered and looked after. I feel like there are so many responsibilities. I am also grateful for a child who is willing to help, generally portable and easy to be with. The strain of monitoring and managing behaviour 24/7 is now gone. Thank God for that.
Embracing life is a whole different ball game.
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