Moving Forward

I’m not one for looking for signs and wonders, but sometimes it’s just interesting how God can use seemingly insignificant things to direct our thoughts. I follow a blog called DC Widow that has been very helpful to me. Her post from March 11 was good, but it was a comment from a reader that got me started on the idea of moving forward. The reader, Steph, said, “Nora McInerny’s TED talk about not moving on but moving forward is spot on…” so, I looked it up and she was right.

At breakfast I picked up the AARP bulletin to scan it while I ate and the cover jumped out at me: “The Path Forward”.

AARP Bulletin

Then, at lunch I did the same with the latest copy of Southern News, from Florida Southern College. Inside was was an article heading “…move forward without forgetting the past.” Wow. It all goes together.

Southern News, Winter, 2021

I am moving forward, well, literally I’m moving south. In two weeks. I closed on my home in Tampa on March 5, then stayed there a week on an air mattress, painting walls and planning. At the end of each day I just drove 1.6 miles to my son’s house where I was fed and loved on. Now I’m finishing up packing and preparing for my third move since last May. It’s been exhausting, not just physically but emotionally. I have to keep stopping myself from the thoughts of “this isn’t how it was supposed to be”. I remind myself, rather, “this isn’t how we planned it.”

Carole King’s song, Anyone At All, comes to mind. I have loved that song ever since I saw “You’ve Got Mail” years ago. It felt like Our Song. It feels like it even more now.

“You’ve become a memory I can’t erase…” “It wasn’t in the plan, not that I could see…” “…that’s what catches me when I fall
I’m so glad it was you”

Not a widow INDEED, but still…

I’ve thought a lot about widowhood and ministry the past few months. I mentioned it in an earlier blog post HERE . I’ve been saddened to see how other widows, not just me, have been neglected by the church. Widows who were and are faithful church members. Widows who have lost their husbands of many years, who were also faithful servants of God. One whose husband was a retired pastor himself. But where is the church in all of this? Even if these widows aren’t “widows indeed” they still need to be ministered to. At least checked on now and again by their pastor or elder or deacon.

“The Bible has much to say about ministering to one another besides the giving  of money…If you assume she (the widow) is fine just because she attends worship each Sunday, you are failing in your ministry to her. Regular visits at her home are the best way to fulfill the James 1 command… It is also the best way to know her and to interact with her so that she will feel comfortable divulging other needs.”  –  The Undistracted Widow by Carol Cornish

In my case it took me being the “squeaky wheel” to receive a call. Part of me felt ashamed, felt that I should be able to go it alone. I have brothers and children, so why was I complaining? Don’t get me wrong, my family and some friends have been a HUGE help and comfort to me. Yet, when it came to spiritual things, I wasn’t sure where to turn. I ended up pouring out feelings to a former pastor, one with a shepherd’s heart. And God, in His mercy, helped me.

The Lord intended for His church to be a support system, but we can’t be a support system if we don’t know each other.”  – Leaving Darkland by Ed Wallen

I see now that not knowing each other is one big hindrance. I see that it is a two-way street, one I hope to travel and become the one who ministers to other weary travelers.

The Waltz

July 17, 2004

“So I learned how to play the waltz during the waltz itself. And maybe that’s what my mother meant when she said life works that way. Maybe the circle keeps moving and maybe you keep finding new ways to move on the dance floor, even if your moves are all wrong. Eventually you learn to keep time in your own manner, no matter what happens, just as long as you don’t stop turning.” – May the Circle Be Unbroken by Sean Dietrich

I had lunch today with a woman who is an even newer widow than me. Her husband also had pancreatic cancer. It was so good to finally talk to someone with similar experiences. To sorrow together but also to have hope together. We are both trying to figure out this waltz, this dance that we are now dancing alone. But, even though we are dancing alone, we are in the same ballroom. I’m so grateful God drew us together, via my sister-in-law.

Living out this life

“Let that true religion still support you. What it has done—it can still do. It has proved to you its reality and its power—still trust it as the anchor of your soul, sure and steadfast. If it prevented you from sinking, when the shock came first upon you, it can do the same through every future stage of your solitary journeying, and every future scene of your now unshared sorrow.” – The Widow Directed to the Widow’s God by John Angell James, 1841

Such good advice, and like much advice, not always easy to follow. In the weeks after Chuck’s death I was so busy with paperwork and decisions that I just kept going full steam. I had to. Now, as things have settled down, finances have worked out, decisions have been made, the day to day living comes at me begging to be heard. What now? How do I live out this life I have now?

I think God has laid a burden at my feet for other widows. I desire to take this empathy I now have, one I never asked for but am grateful to have, and share it with others. I am seeing such a great need for ministry to widows that is being sorely neglected in so many of our churches. But, how many others are being neglected? What about the elderly cooped up with no one to visit them? The young mother struggling to make ends meet? Do I have empathy for all these? No, but sympathy, certainly. So I have to go with what I know, with what I’ve been given. To take that “cup of cold water” in Jesus’ name.

I had a conversation today with an old neighbor friend. We lived next door to each other for nine years, but I think I talked to her more today than I did those nine years combined. God has been so gracious to me to bring people back into my life to be an encouragement. Talking to her helped me to see that perhaps I AM on the right track as far as plans for the immediate future. I feel God leading me to be a help to my family. To be there, nearby, to be a help in their time of need and in mine. That looks like moving and it looks like traveling.

Kindreds Spirits in this new life

Red Mountain

I am slowly reading a book called A Widow’s Journey by Gayle Roper. It is like picking up someone’s journal and almost mistaking it for my own. Her husband’s name was also Chuck and the things she relates hit so close to home it’s weird. But in a helpful way.

She talks about how much of her schedule revolved around her husband’s schedule. “I sometimes thought how much I’d love to do what I wanted when I wanted. Now there’s no one to build my life around. I set my own schedule, and it’s scary to have the freedom I thought I wanted.” Wow – so honest. And so me.

She ponders which is better, a prolonged decline to the end of life or a quick death. She tells of the difference between herself and her friend who are both widows, yet with different experiences.

“We both lie alone at night. We both cook for one. We both lug our garbage to the curb each week…but our ache is the same.”

I found such a friend yesterday. She became a widow about a month and a half after me, but she had essentially lost her husband long before to dementia. Finding these kindred spirits has been a blessing from God, my Father who is watching over me.

I cry aloud to the LORD;

I lift up my voice to the LORD for mercy.
I pour out before Him my complaint;
before Him I tell my trouble. 
Psalm 142:1-2

Thanksgivings

I’m sitting in the backyard testing out my fire pit and reflecting on the blessings God has sent me in the past 3-4 months. This list is not comprehensive, but a start at saying “Thank-You” to God and to those He has used to bless and uplift me.

To my daughters, Katherine and Leah, who were my anchor in the storm. Their love was expressed over and over in their actions, from making phone calls and making decisions to giving insulin shots and massaging feet. And finding this little house that is slowly becoming a home.

To my sons who called and visited and lifted my burdens in numerous ways. They provided expertise and they provided conversation and they gave love.

To my daughter-in-law, my third daughter, who gave so much advice and held Chuck’s hand on her last visit, with tears in her eyes and love in her heart.

To friends, known and unknown, who prayed when I couldn’t. I felt the prayers holding up my feeble arms.

To my little brother Norman who gave of his time to get me moved – twice – and provided his home to me and his heart. And his cooking- top notch stuff.

To my big brother David, who talked to me in the night as I walked Ruby, who knows firsthand the pain of losing a spouse.

“Finally, all of you be of one mind, having compassion for one another; love as brothers, be tenderhearted, be courteous” I Peter 3:8

To Al, who drove across town to take my car to get new tires. And visited Chuck. And Darlene who made cake.

To Holly and Ken, who visited and prayed and fed us with deliciousness and gave advice and showed the spirit of Christ in actions.

To Candace who was supportive in a time of need, who knows loss, and who gave me a bird feeder that brings me birds and joy every day.

To Darla, Jeannie, Robin, Peggy, Erica and Lee, who reached out and loved on me.

To Aunt Amy who was always a supporter of our family, and is no stranger to loss. She has empathized with tears and I love her.

To the nephews and nieces who have given the strength of their youth and reached out to me across the generational divide.

To Judy and Sheryl and Crystal and Maureen and Sarita who text and call and write letters from Birmingham. A sweet combination of southern hospitality and Christian fellowship.

To cousins, those childhood friends who are forever linked to my heart, no matter how many years go by. Thank you for all the prayers and conversations.

To my sisters in widowhood who have grieved with me and have suffered their own loss: Mary, Beth, Libby, Pam, and Tommie.

To Mark and Eric who prayed with me over the phone and Steve who texted scripture and encouraging words and prayers.

To Dorothy who prayed and wrote a poem, because those are her gifts.

Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world. – James 1:27

“It’s not somethin’ you get over, but it’s somethin’ you get through…”

I never heard this song before today, but let me tell you how I found it.

If you knew Chuck, you know he loved baseball. A few years ago we traveled to Douglas Georgia for a reunion of a group of guys who played baseball together at South Georgia Junior College, now South Georgia State College. It was great fun and I finally got to put a face to a name for so many I’d heard about over the years. This group has a Facebook page and when they learned of Chuck’s illness they posted so many encouraging words and I knew many were praying for us. Just eight days after Chuck died, another from this group of friends, Tim Snipes, also died of pancreatic cancer. I’d heard his name but didn’t recall meeting him. I immediately reached out to his wife Libby and today I got a response – she had just seen my message. So, as we are now Facebook “friends” I looked at her page and that is where I found this song.

And just today another brother in Christ, Ed Wallen, went home to be with the LORD. So much death in a short time, and now so many widows left behind. I’m beginning to realize how there are some things you just can’t know, can’t empathize with, until you have experienced it. May God forgive me of my past lack of care and make me more aware of others and their burdens.