Long Journey, Uncharted Waters

 

I looked through a box of keepsakes today spanning my young childhood years, which included photos of my goofy bangs and “Goosey goosey” stage. Cards of congratulations for being a high school grad…a check I forgot to cash…oops :-/.. and many other happy milestones and reasons to celebrate. Mementos from past awards earned from years serving as resident assistant in college, volunteerism as a bible camp counselor, and special notes of encouragement written or typed for me by my Mom or Dad are so very cherished.

I of course came upon a few more recent items related to the decade of love I shared with my beloved husband. Cards of excitement about our engagement and with flowering words inside wishing us a LONG, FULL life of loving one another. The flowery words didn’t exactly prove to be fulfilled exactly as we had hoped and dreamed. I found courtship photos I looked at through tears and caressed softly. Oh what I wouldn’t give to actually feel his stubbled cheek or run my fingers through his hair. I used to caress his face all the time. We were so affectionate. Then my heart was gripped with a twinge of actual sharp physical pain…a note he wrote to me in his adorable handwriting. He so often poked fun at his writing, saying it was too messy and small, but I always thought it was adorable. Many a love note he’d thoughtfully written over the course of our love story.

My heart melted seeing his handwriting. It was a brief connection to a living unique a precious part of the man I love. It was written by his own precious hands, none other will look the same. It was as if those handwritten notes were alive and breathing like I so desperately wished he was.

Another major reflection upon pawing through my box of keepsakes…..

1) The things that used to matter (i.e. awards, resumes) that used to be a part of my identity aren’t truly what matters in life.

2) Loving and being loved by my husband was the number one most important priority to me after my relationship with God. It was my life’s mission and the fulfillment of the dreams I held in my heart even as a child. Raising our children together was also what mattered most. Yet again an issue with a lost identity and a huge part of who I am. I cannot be his wife anymore.

So I say all this to say…. I FEEL LOST….. floating in stormy seas, in the dark,….in the fog….seemingly by my lonesome without any captain’s training. How do I navigate this vessel in these conditions anyway? I’ve never journeyed here before, that’s for sure. Yikes….

THANKFULLY, although I am still on this arduous journey to figure out who I am, I can at least lay hold of two truths to help me navigate my little lost ship.

I have the hope of heaven provided through Christ as an anchor for my soul. He won’t allow my ship to stray outside the limits of his love, so long as I remember to drop this anchor into the choppy surf and trust its strength to hold firmly.

19 This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which enters the Presence behind the veil, Hebrews 6:19 NKJV

Though the very specific destination my little ship will end up has yet to be revealed to me, I can trust that through prayer & reading God’s word and choosing to trust when I don’t feel like it, I can count on my ship being aimed at the right direction that God intends for it. Just enough light each day has been provided to progress through the next small portion of this marathon journey.

I’m trying to see miles ahead, when I only have the light and the grace for the day to journey the next few feet. I get myself into trouble when I think all about what life will look like months or years from now, in fact starting to think ahead almost always makes me scared….and nauseous…..and then my little ship starts taking on water it wasn’t meant to have to carry.

~Trying to Hold onto Hope

~The Widow Mama~

About 

Dorothy lost her beloved husband Oct 2021 to a very unexpected bacterial pneumonia that quickly became septic shock. Her other half and best friend was born with a serious congenital heart defect. Because of that, she had always feared the possibility of being a widow, but she thought it more likely to be due to his heart, and more likely when her husband was in his 50s after the children were grown. Instead, he graduated to heaven just one week before turning 34. Dorothy was 36 with young sons ages 5 and 16 months who adored their Daddy. In less than 48 hours, the life Dorothy and her beloved husband so carefully built together shattered. They were blessed to share just over 8 wonderful, joyous and fun years of marriage. While her heart is so thankful to God for having had their journey together, she has struggled since his death with feeling hurt and let down by God. She has felt so devastated that their love story was short and ended so abruptly. Join her as she shares her unfolding journey of grasping to faith in Christ as she journeys through love, loss, single parenthood, honoring her husband's legacy and guiding her sons through their grief and life without Daddy.