It is September 25, 2018.
I will meet my newest cousin today.
Little August is 3 months old
and I am so excited to get to meet him!
Holding newborns always brings me joy
and I cannot wait!
But when I had to write the date this morning on something,
the memories came unbidden...
as they tend to do.
7 years ago today
was the memorial service
at the church where my Rob was the pastor
at the time of his death.
For those who are new to my blog
and new to our story
and to remind me to always seek JOY,
I will repost what I wrote (in 2016) about that day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The following 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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