Not the End of My Story

I know that the death of my husband did not end the story of my life, but it did end many, many chapters of it.  For a year, I've closed the book of my life and remained in stasis.  It's time to open the book again and move forward.

I don't know what direction I am going to take from here, but I know that  changes have to be made.  For those of you that know me, change is NOT my friend.

These are some things I am contemplating:

• returning to grad school and getting my doctorate
• moving out of this big house an into a town home
• taking a photography class
• taking more ballroom dancing classes 
• taking my freelance writing seriously and submit articles on a regular basis
• taking yoga again
• volunteering as a tutor at the Children's Home

With school starting on Monday, I've picked a rotten time to do something new, but I'm going to pick one and go with it.  I'll keep you posted on my progress.

27

Cyna

perfection is being beautifully imperfect

This little video so wonderfully expresses what I miss about my Steve.  Truly, those imperfections are what I miss so much.  I knew every scar on his body.  How ugly his feet were.  The incessant way we would push all my buttons so I would blow up and we could make up.  His forgetfulness.  Him being a morning person...me being a night person.

There are dozens more.

Oh, how I miss them.

How I miss Steve.

More every day.

27
Cyna

To my son, Paul

Unselfish and noble actions are the most radiant pages in the biography of souls.  ~David Thomas

  

When my husband died, my eldest son, Paul, gave up his graduate studies and a wonderful job as a graduate assistant to move home and take care of me.  I did not ask him to do this.  He just knew I needed him.

This decision was costly for my son.  He left behind his support system of friends, a job he loved, and graduate credits that wouldn’t transfer.  Coming home as an adult is difficult in the best of circumstances.  I can’t imagine what a nightmare it has been for him to live in a house of grief.

But he came.

And he stayed.

He is here still.

How do you thank someone for that kind of sacrifice?

Paul has been my great support and held me up when I could not stand.  He has been a problem solver and has taken care of countless details and decisions.  He has become the man of this house. 

I am blessed to be his mother.

His father would be so proud of him.

So, thank you, Paul, for helping me pick up the pieces of our shattered life and gently put them back together again.  Thank you for being strong when I wasn’t.  Thank you for loving me unconditionally and sacrificially.  Thank you….for being YOU.

27

Cyna

Answers to WHY

 I have now entered my 2nd year of widowhood.  I never thought I would survive the first year, but somehow I did. I don't say that with pride, but sheer astonishment.  I really can't believe I am still living and breathing. 

In the book, "The Prayer of Jabez," by Bruce Wilkinson, he poses a question: "If the God of heaven loves you infinitely and wants you in His presence every moment, and if He knows that heaven is a much better place for you, then why on earth has He left you here?"

That is a good question.

Why DID God leave me here?

Steve was far more intelligent and giving than I. He was a better parent. His gifts and talents helped people far and near. He loved life and was working so hard training for the Iron Man. He was valuable to our community, our church, and his friends.  His dental team and patients needed him, his Sunday School class needed him, hurting people on the mission field needed him, our sons needed his wisdom, calm, and encouragement, and heaven knows I needed him like the air I breathe!

God should have taken me instead.

But He didn't. Why?

It's taken me a year to begin to distill an answer to that WHY.  I believe God has left me here because my mission for Him here is not complete.

I've said it before; God never lets a hurt go unused.  I am convinced that the hurts in my life will provide me the vehicle for completing my mission: to reach people for God. Through this blog, I touch people I've never met.  I counsel the grieving and encourage them. I have a heightened sense of empathy for the hurting and am drawn to meet their needs.

As I step out of my “grief cave”, put myself out in the world, and open the eyes of my heart, I know that God will send me providential encounters with people with whom He wants me to meet and minister.

Do I have the complete WHY answer?  No.  I'm just going to have to walk daily by faith and know that, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18

27

Cyna