In May 2013, 1 year
and 8 months after Rob died, I prayed a couple of very specific prayers. Later on that day, when looking for Mother’s
Day cards for my mom and for Rob’s mom, I came across 2 greeting cards that
matched exactly what I had prayed for.
Along with the Mother’s Day cards, I also bought both of the other
greeting cards.
Buying those cards was a
tangible act of faith.
The cards were to
be used when the prayers were answered.
When Rob first died,
so many folks gathered around my children and me. They provided comfort, food, prayers, and
hope that life would go on. But after a
little while, those folks had to get back to their own lives and my children
and I had to start figuring out how to live in our “new normal.” To say it was awful and lonely and agonizing is
the biggest understatement I could ever write.
I simply felt all alone.
And in so many ways,
I was.
I was not physically
alone since I was with my children all of the time but I was the only adult
left in our world. I had to lead the way
on this “new” path we were walking and
be the support FOR my children,
not
expect support FROM my children.
I reached out to some
of the widows/widowers I knew. Some were
still in the throes of mourning and grief themselves. Some had remarried and did not need or want
to spend time in the agony of the beginning.
And some reached back giving me hope that my okay would come…eventually.
But none of them
became the consistent support that I craved – support from someone who,
unfortunately, knew how I felt because he or she had gone through it too.
Someone to whom I
would not have to explain how I could cry and laugh at the same memory. Someone to whom I would not have to explain
how hard it was to have to move out of the parsonage and try to re-establish my
family’s new identity but yet at the same time knowing that the move would
provide a little bit of relief from the agonizing memory of Rob’s last night
there. Someone to whom I would not have
to explain how or why it was so hard to put away his toothbrush or to even move
the bar of soap that he used during his last shower, or move the last newspaper
he read, or move the bookmark out of the last book he was reading, or to even
bring myself to just touch his brush.
Someone to whom I would not have to explain why I slept for so long cuddled
up to Rob’s shirt and with clips of his hair in an envelope under my pillow.
For me, at the
beginning, this person who would know how I felt,
this support that I craved,
never came.
I’m not sure why God
didn’t answer my prayer for a “widow/widower” friend at the beginning.
I know now that we are everywhere.
It seems I hear about a new widow/widower a
few times a week now.
But, at the time,
I didn’t know that.
The only answer I’ve
ever been able to come up with as to why
God chose to not answer my prayer in
the beginning is two-fold:
1) I had to totally
rely on and trust in Him to heal my broken heart. And He did.
He provided in ways I would have never imagined. Whether it was through a certain devotional
or a certain Bible verse delivered to my email inbox at just the perfect time
or a phone call from an old friend or a card from a preacher friend of our’s or
a note from a church member or a note from a family member or a family member
dropping by to see us or through the smile of one of my children, God always
provided hope when I so desperately needed it.
Even when it was so incredibly hard to face another day, He never left
me hanging. He, in time and always on
time, would always provide the “peace which passeth all understanding…” (Philippians 4:7)
2) The Bible tells
us, in 2 Corinthians 1:4 that “He comforts us in all our troubles so that we
can comfort others with the comfort we ourselves received from God.”
When I was a young
preacher’s wife with young children, I remember well a situation that happened
when one of our church members became a widow.
She was in her late 70’s and lost her husband after being married for well
over 50 years. For the longest time, she
called us every single day. No matter
what I was doing with my young children, I always answered. Even though her grown children and grown
grandchildren visited her on the weekends, she was so lonely without her
beloved there with her daily. She told
me how glad she was that I was her preacher’s wife and how grateful she was
that I took the time to answer the phone and to listen to her. I remember her telling me that, without her
husband there, she felt like no one really needed anything she had to offer
anymore. I tried so hard to comfort her
in her loneliness.
Looking back at it
now,
I realize how feeble my understanding was
but I certainly did try.
After losing my Rob
and going through most of the healing process leaning only on God, His Word,
and His provision, I lived and breathed the first part of 2 Corinthians 1: 4. I was comforted by God in my troubles. When our church member became a widow, God
used me then, in my feeble attempts, to comfort her but I lacked the
understanding to know how she felt.
Exactly 3 years, 10
months, and 3 days ago, I found out.
And I can use what
happened to me to help others.
Because God comforted
me and because I know how horrible it was in the beginning when I felt so very
alone, I always reach out now when I hear someone new has entered our
ranks. Some reach back. Some don’t.
But I always, in some form, try. I
don’t want anyone else to feel alone.
In May 2013, I
specifically prayed again for a friend who would know how I felt and someone who would need the same. By that time I had lived with Rob’s death for
1 year and 8 months. I was so weary of
not having someone to talk with who would just “get it” without having to always
explain. And that afternoon, I bought
the greeting card that I spoke of in the first paragraph.
As I said,
it was an act of faith that God
would provide what I asked –
someone who would need me as much as I needed her.
At the end of
September 2014, I clicked onto a national widow’s blog that I read. A woman named Susan had left a comment and I
clicked over to her personal blog and started reading it each day but did not comment right away. It was amazing to me how much what she said
could have been what I would have said in the beginning. The beginning is all just so horrible. On October 2, 2014, she posted a list of
petitions to God. Her #4 request was asking God for “a new friend for me. One
that, unfortunately, will completely understand what I am going through.” I still did not comment but I did start
praying about it. On October 10, 2014,
she wrote a post that sounded exactly like something I would have said and I
just had to comment. She responded back
and our friendship was formed almost instantaneously. We have a lot in common. We both lost our husbands suddenly. We both still have children at home. We are both stay-at-home moms. We became fast friends. We can almost finish each other’s
sentences. Susan lives 5 hours from me
but we have spent hours and hours on the phone and we have supported each other
through many issues. We pray for each
other’s prayer requests – from the trivial to the serious ones. She calls me anytime and I call her
anytime. Sometimes more than once or
even more than twice a day. We met in
person for the first time in January 2015.
I was taking the kids to the beach in memory of what would have been Rob’s 56th birthday
so I told her she should bring her kids (and grandkids) and come too. So, except for 1 grandchild, they all came. We had a great time! And then a couple of weeks ago, 2 of her
kids, 1 of her daughter’s friends, and she met us at Carowinds when our church
went for the day. It was good to see her
in person again!
One thing Susan
and I do not have in common is a pretty big one. My Rob died on a normal day. Her husband died on her birthday. July 23, 2014. That’s right.
Her husband died suddenly
ON HER BIRTHDAY.
Exactly one year ago today, her beloved passed away from a sudden heart attack.
ON HER BIRTHDAY.
Exactly one year ago today, her beloved passed away from a sudden heart attack.
So, in May 2013th,
when I was buying the birthday card for who I hoped would be a new widow friend,
I had no idea why I was almost compelled to buy a birthday card instead of
a “happy
you’re my friend” kind of card.
But God did.
I had no idea the
significance that a birthday card would be in a friendship formed from grief.
But God did.
I had no idea that
the new friend who would “get it” without explanation would need a special
birthday card from someone else who knows how it feels.
But God did.
I had no idea how
much we would lean on each other in this season of our lives.
But God did.
And for that, I am
thankful.
If it were within my
power to change things for Susan so that she would never have known how I’ve
felt, I would.
But since I cannot, I
am thankful that God has used me to help her.
And I am thankful that God has used her to help me.
I have no idea how
long this season in our lives will last.
I’m sure the time will come when she doesn’t need me as much. I’m sure the time will come when I don’t need
her as much. But I do know for sure that
she is a lifelong friend – even when the seasons change.
So today, on her
birthday and on the one year time marker of her husband’s death, I say to my
dear friend (and I have already talked
with her on the phone at least 3 times today):
Happy Birthday Susan!
and
I’m so sorry you lost
your beloved.
I love you!
Janna
(January 2015)
(July 2015)
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