This will post on Tuesday,
September 27, 2016 because living my current life and attending a funeral in
support of a very new widow didn’t leave time to find, edit, and prepare the
photos for publishing until now
but it was written on
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 25,
2016.
……………………………………………………………..
I knew today,
September 25, 2016, would be hard…
…and I was right.
Last night, as I was
getting clothes ready for church today,
the memories started
flooding in…
…of 5 years ago
on the Saturday night
after Rob’s death…
…the sounds of my kids
and my nieces and nephews in the living room…
…and telling God that
He was going to have to help me get through the next day.
So, last night, I
asked God to help me get through today and
I determined that
I
would
purposely
try
to
find
JOY
all day long.
Not to drown out the
memories
but to at least try
to temper them.
For those who do not
know,
my late husband was a
minister.
5 years ago today was
the memorial service
for my Rob held at
the church where he was serving
and where we were
living at the time of his death.
It was held during
the 11 a.m worship service.
So many church
members could not
make it to the out of
town funeral
two days before.
The church needed to
grieve.
And the kids and I
needed to grieve with them.
We had much in
common.
We were church
family.
They had lost their
pastor.
So had the kids and
I.
Their future was
uncertain.
So was ours.
I knew, though, that
this memorial service was about more
than just grieving Rev.
Robert Edward Shelton.
I had been involved
in ministry long enough to know
that it was also the
first step in corporate (group) healing.
We not only needed to
all grieve together.
We also needed to all
take the next step forward together.
Resuming worship.
And that’s exactly what
we did.
I lovingly placed my Rob’s
clergy robe and some of his stoles on one side of the altar.
A large photo of him was
placed on the other side...
...in front of the pulpit.
There were beautiful
flowers.
There was beautiful
music.
I thought of 1 Corinthians
Chapter 13
- the “love” chapter
-
as I entered the
church that morning...
...and how love truly
does endure all things -
even going through
the death of my beloved.
It was so difficult as
I first glanced at the pulpit that morning.
The one Rob had stood
in front of for 4 years and 3 months.
And remembering once
again
that he really was
dead.
Maybe only other widows/widowers will understand this.
It’s not like we ever forget our spouses are dead.
But there are certain times
(especially at only 5 days into it)
that it just hits us anew
that they’re really dead.
The district
superintendent spoke at the service
and gave anyone there
that day the chance to speak as well.
So many did and it
was so comforting.
I don’t remember how
much I did or did not cry during the service itself.
I remember the D.S.
spoke on “last words.”
And we do know Rob’s last words.
Before he fell asleep with the boys while settling them down to bed,
Rob and his sons said The Lord’s Prayer together as they did every
night
and the last words anyone heard Rob say were
“Good night, Wesley. I love you.”
“Good night, Luke. I love you.”
I remember watching
my children intently as the D.S. spoke.
I remember watching
the pulpit intently.
I remember looking at
all the beautiful stained glass windows,
especially the front one,
and at the woodwork and intricate
light fixtures in that church.
I had often thought about
how much those light fixtures
look like the ones at
the church where Rob and I were married.
And I remember
turning to look at each other person who spoke.
At this point, I
still felt like the preacher’s wife for this church.
I knew in my head
that I was not.
But, only 5 days into
it,
my heart had not
caught up to that fact yet.
I remember that, as I
sat there, I prayed for
“my church folks.”
So many of them were
crying.
They were missing my
Rob.
They were missing
THEIR Rob.
My heart hurt for
them.
I remember praying
for whoever would fill their pulpit…
…not only the
immediate interim pastor
but also who would be
appointed the next June.
And I prayed for
healing for us all.
After the service,
the kids and I decided to take one more
“family” picture with
the photo of Rob.
I remember one of the
kids asking,
“Do we smile for
this?”
The answer was,
“Well, he is smiling in
the photo so I guess we do too.”
So we all did, except
my Luke.
My then 8 year old
Luke was the only one who looks like we all felt.
But I’m so happy we
took it
because seeing this
photo comforts me now.
I don’t look at it
often but when I do,
I love the “humanness”
shown in it.
I see my Luke’s necktie
thrown halfway back on to his already unbuttoned shirt.
I see a little bit of
my Rob’s stoles on the left side of the photo.
I see the pulpit on
the right side of it.
I see the altar where Rob last served us communion.
I see the baptismal
font to the left,
and the extinguished
candle
and cross behind us.
All of which were/are
symbolic to me and
were/are such a part
of our family’s life and ministry.
I see the way we, as
a family, clung together in those first days.
I see the missingness
in our eyes right along with
the resolve to keep
his memory alive
and a part of us as a
family unit.
I see that we were
forever changed.
But that we were
going to be okay.
Mostly though,
I see love.
How much we had.
How hard it was to
lose it.
How much we still
had.
And those are the thoughts
and memories from my past
that I tried to remember
today
as I walked through my
present.
The JOY from being loved by my Rob
that I will forever
carry in my heart.
The JOY from being a part of his family
that I am still
experiencing every day.
(All 4 of his children sure are some great kids)!
The JOY from being part of his job
and knowing that I
will forever be blessed that I was
a certain preacher’s
wife for 5 different congregations
(all of whom have remained in my heart)!
As I got ready for
church this morning, I found JOY in
the sounds of my kids and my nieces, nephew, and cousins getting ready for
church, too.
(They were in town for a family birthday party).
At church, I found JOY as I walked in and looked around
at the beautiful
stained glass windows, woodwork, and the intricate light fixtures at the church
I now attend. This church’s light
fixtures also look like the ones at the church where Rob and I were married.
I found JOY as I saw the front of the bulletin
and was instantly reminded of the many times Rob and I sang the song,
“Lord, You Have Come
To The Lakeshore.”
I found JOY as I watched Anna, Wesley, and Luke
being a part of the service yesterday
– Wesley and Luke as
ushers – Anna in the choir.
Their dad would be
proud.
I found JOY as I listened to Mr. Jimmie lead
and sing, with vigor,
the JOY down in my heart song.
I found JOY as I listened to my Wesley (and his friend, Corey) sing
“In The Eye Of The
Storm.” They did a great job!
I found JOY knowing that God has been my Anchor
and has been present with me every single time I’ve been in the eye of
the storm.
I found JOY as I was watching a 4 year old young
boy listen to them sing...
...and knowing that my son is being a role model for those younger than him.
I found JOY as I watched the little children at
Children’s Time. They are always so
cute!
And I almost laughed
out loud as I found JOY when the preacher
started preaching and was preaching on JOY
– in all circumstances!
I had been so
intently focusing on finding JOY in
the moment and not focusing on the memories that were marching through my mind during
this worship service that I had not even realized that his sermon title was “JOY, Living Content Lives!”
(I was listening so intently by this point that I didn't even think to get a photo of the preacher)!
I’ll be honest and
say that I did cry during church today.
Finding and choosing JOY while memories of sorrow are
flooding in
is difficult at best
The memories
overwhelmed me for a few minutes during the offertory
but I tried to even
find the JOY in that.
The tears reminded me
that my heart has not hardened.
And those feelings of
sorrow were, once again,
tempered with
feelings of gratitude
that my love story
with my Rob
happened at all.
As I’ve said many
times,
I was blessed.
And that thought
brings me JOY.
I will end with a
short conversation I had last week with my Wesley
that
definitely made me smile and gave me JOY.
I simply loved his
perspective!
Not long after Rob
died, I bought a front license plate for my vehicle
that simply says JOY.
I needed and wanted to
always know and be reminded that
JOY was in front of me
no matter what my current
situation was
and that I could carry JOY with me wherever I went.
As the boys and I
were walking to the car last week,
I noticed a fallen
leaf stuck to my front JOY plate.
I jokingly said,
“Look at that leaf
trying to get in the way of my JOY.” 
Wesley quickly
replied,
“Or be a part of it,
Mom.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James 1: 2-4
Consider it all JOY,
my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of
your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so
that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing
Romans 5: 3-4
And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven
character; and proven character, hope.
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