In my last post, I wrote of how the setting down of our headstone somehow seemed to lift me up. Its very weight seemed to lighten my load of sorrow and grief. I have come to realize that headstone was God's way of giving me relief. It was not so much the stone as it was what it represented in my heart....a love given to me by God that is substantial, weighty, permanent....Bonnie's love for me, mine for her, His for all of us. I pray that I will always look at that headstone in that way.
Another time in which He met me and provided what I needed, exactly when I needed Him.
While those of you who know me well know that I have always kept busy, these past two and a half years have taught me the value of 'being still'. (Psalm 46:10 Be still and know that I am God...) I've learned to 'wait'. (Actus 1:4 ...wait for the gift my Father promised".) Bonnie said that I'd learned patience while waiting in hospital rooms for her tests, procedures and exams to be completed. Another way in which God was preparing me for these past four months?
In today's devotional, from the little book Bonnie gave me two years ago, we are told that the disciples were told to "Wait". "It is not for you to know." All they are told is to see what GOD does. I feel like that sometimes. There was nothing I could do to feel better these past four months. There was nothing anyone could do or say or read to me that would relieve the grief or the pain or the loneliness. All I could do was wait to see what God would do.
These past months have found me being more still than I've ever been. It is not easy sometimes to do so. I feel called to "do", not just be. The reality is that God is doing the doing. I'm doing the being. I've found myself, as this morning, studying the bible, reading the devotionals for not minutes, but hours. Hobo woke me at 6:00 this morning. It is now 9:00. He is sleeping quietly under the coffee table in front of me while I study, read and write.
I will begin my doing in due time. I'll take Hobo for his walk to the cemetery and around our lane. I'll get the paint brush out and start painting the guest quarters trim later this morning. But this morning, as with most mornings, I've been able to be still. I've been waiting.
This waiting....this being still has allowed my heart to hear what I might have missed in the clatter of doing. Sometimes God speaks loudest with His soft voice. He nudges us. He whispers. In our being still, in our waiting, He makes us realize that it is not just in thunder that He speaks. Sometimes it is his quiet voice that is most eloquent. It is His whisper that is most powerful.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Two Steps Forward
The headstone was set as planned last Monday, on Valentine's day.
I'd had an extremely difficult week leading up to that time. Perhaps I was just dreading the unknown effect of setting that stone in place. Last week I called a "two step back" week.
Several friends and relatives commented to me that it was appropriate and even poetic for our headstone to be set in place on Valentine's day. At the time I had difficulty realizing they were, perhaps, correct. As I sat on a stone wall in the cemetery last Monday, watching the workers set the stone in place, a calm seemed to come over me. The stone is not at all flashy but it is very elegant. It is substantial, strong, beautiful...much like the love affair Bonnie and I shared for so many years. Having it there gave me a sense of closure that I had not been able to accept before.
It will be legible for many generations. The love that it represents will last throughout eternity.
Somehow, having that stone in place has enabled me to take two steps forward this week. It is as if the strength of that stone, the vary weight of it, grounded me. Instead of being washed away by every wave of emotion that hit me, I was able to continue standing. The waves were still there, and they may always be there, but somehow this week I've been able to continue walking when they hit.
The fog that I've been in lifted, ever so slightly, this week as well. The clarity of thought and focus is nowhere near what it once was, but it has been better for several days. To feel a small sense of clarity again is priceless.
Yesterday, I was talking to a neighbor while I was spreading mulch in the front flower bed. He described grief as a deep wound that heals ever so slowly. It heals from the inside out. I added that you are never the same after being wounded this deeply. Then, after all the healing that can take place has taken place, there is a scar that lasts as long as you live. I do not know how much 'healing' will take place for me. I do know that there will always be a scar. But, that is ok. The scar will be a reminder of the blessings I've had with Bonnie. I'd never give up the memories of those wonderful years to be rid of a scar. It is worth the trade, as painful as it is.
I want to thank all of you for your prayers and your concern and your kindness. As alone as I've felt this winter I know you were there for me. For the last, almost four months, I've just been trying to get through one more day. As my brain clears, if even a little, I am more aware of friends, neighbors, concerns.
There is much more to write. There is much more to tell you. I want to tell you of how I've kept somewhat sane by keeping busy; of some of the potentially exciting things that may unfold as a result of the keeping busy; of some of the treasures of darkness that have been revealed. Those will be subjects of future posts.
For now, I am thankful for two steps forward. I am even more thankful for a love that was, is, and will be, stronger, weightier and longer-lasting than even that black granite headstone.
I'd had an extremely difficult week leading up to that time. Perhaps I was just dreading the unknown effect of setting that stone in place. Last week I called a "two step back" week.
Several friends and relatives commented to me that it was appropriate and even poetic for our headstone to be set in place on Valentine's day. At the time I had difficulty realizing they were, perhaps, correct. As I sat on a stone wall in the cemetery last Monday, watching the workers set the stone in place, a calm seemed to come over me. The stone is not at all flashy but it is very elegant. It is substantial, strong, beautiful...much like the love affair Bonnie and I shared for so many years. Having it there gave me a sense of closure that I had not been able to accept before.
It will be legible for many generations. The love that it represents will last throughout eternity.
Somehow, having that stone in place has enabled me to take two steps forward this week. It is as if the strength of that stone, the vary weight of it, grounded me. Instead of being washed away by every wave of emotion that hit me, I was able to continue standing. The waves were still there, and they may always be there, but somehow this week I've been able to continue walking when they hit.
The fog that I've been in lifted, ever so slightly, this week as well. The clarity of thought and focus is nowhere near what it once was, but it has been better for several days. To feel a small sense of clarity again is priceless.
Yesterday, I was talking to a neighbor while I was spreading mulch in the front flower bed. He described grief as a deep wound that heals ever so slowly. It heals from the inside out. I added that you are never the same after being wounded this deeply. Then, after all the healing that can take place has taken place, there is a scar that lasts as long as you live. I do not know how much 'healing' will take place for me. I do know that there will always be a scar. But, that is ok. The scar will be a reminder of the blessings I've had with Bonnie. I'd never give up the memories of those wonderful years to be rid of a scar. It is worth the trade, as painful as it is.
I want to thank all of you for your prayers and your concern and your kindness. As alone as I've felt this winter I know you were there for me. For the last, almost four months, I've just been trying to get through one more day. As my brain clears, if even a little, I am more aware of friends, neighbors, concerns.
There is much more to write. There is much more to tell you. I want to tell you of how I've kept somewhat sane by keeping busy; of some of the potentially exciting things that may unfold as a result of the keeping busy; of some of the treasures of darkness that have been revealed. Those will be subjects of future posts.
For now, I am thankful for two steps forward. I am even more thankful for a love that was, is, and will be, stronger, weightier and longer-lasting than even that black granite headstone.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Irony
This will be a very short entry.
Irony of ironies....tomorrow, on Valentines Day, our headstone will be set.
What do you suppose we were doing last Valentine's day? Well it was a Sunday.
Bonnie and I renewed our wedding vows. I have a picture of our doing so and another of the kiss that followed hanging on the wall to my left as I type.
Last year, I signed up for another 40 years with Bonnie. I'll never forget saying "YOU BET I DO". This year I'll set her (and my) headstone.
I suppose the reality is that the headstone we'll set tomorrow will last for a hundred or so years. Last year Bonnie and I set our headstone for eternity.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Being Still
As I sat, this morning, doing some bible study and rubbing Hobo's long, black, silky ears I began to reflect on the time since Bonnie's death. My mind played the tape back to me until I got to a telephone conversation I'd had this week with my good friend Judy.
We were talking about many of the facets of deep grief...what they do to us and how they feel....trying to describe them to one another. We can relate to what each says in that we are both travelling this journey although for very different reasons and she has been on this road longer.
As we talked I mentioned that I had not experienced anger over Bonnie's death. The 'experts' tell us that is a 'stage' of grief that many people experience. Because of the circumstances of Bonnie's passing into heaven, I have not been angry with doctors, nurses, the system, or God. For that I am very thankful.
While I do not appreciate the fact that Bonnie is no longer beside me, I am not angry with God for allowing her to come to Him. You see, I am blessed to maintain my belief that He is in control; that this is a part of His plan; that it will work for good in some way that I cannot imagine. How much more difficult this time without Bonnie would be if I were angry. That would multiply the loss, emptiness and pain.
Along the way in our conversation Judy asked me if I'd been able to sleep these past three months. I realized my answer was probably not what she expected. I said: "Yes".
During the time when Bonnie was so very sick I'd hated the hours between 1 and 4 AM. If I awoke, the worry began. Now, I look forward to that quiet time between going to bed and falling asleep. That is a time of quiet prayer. I find that is a time when I can be close to Bonnie. I am able to fall asleep with her on my mind and sleep through the night. If I should awake, it is ok now. I know she is where she needs to be, she is not in pain, and I am still close to her. I fall back to sleep easily. Another thing for which to be thankful.
Another thing that I realized as I sat there reviewing the past three months is a change of opinion about something. If God is in control, then I must be at this place, at this time for a reason. I've been extremely lonely this winter. I've wanted to be where people are, where things are happening, where there is activity, where there is noise. Instead I've been where it is quiet, still, lonely....and beautiful. I've struggled terribly with this aloneness.
And yet, were it not for being here I would have missed some very important things. By being alone in this quiet place I have been forced to spend time with God. The meaning of the scripture "Be still and know that I am God" was forced upon me.
Those who know me know that I am not one to be still for very long. In fact, I've tried to stay busy, very busy, these past three months. Inevitably however there have been times for quiet reflection, study, reading of the bible. I've been forced to 'be still'. Not only am I reading the bible instead of fiction, I am able to think about what it is saying to me about our God. That has been a wonderful experience. I am coming to know Him better. Another thing for which to be thankful.
Beauty. That is something I've been missing lately. It was here. It always has been. I've just not been appreciating it...or perhaps I've been ignoring it. As our conversation continued, I realized how much beauty I had experienced of late and the appreciation began to return.
Just the other evening I was down on the boat dock as the sun was setting. It was absolutely still. There was not a single ripple between me and the shoreline six miles away. When you live in a place like this you begin to realize there is a schedule to nature. As Hobo and I sat on the dock I experienced something very special. As the birds were returning to their nesting sites for the night, each species made a unique and beautiful sound as they flew, or as the swam, past the dock. Some fly quickly on short wings. Others soar gracefully on long, beautiful wings. Still others swim cautiously close to shore. The wings make different sounds. The birds also whistle or chirp or even clack as they fly, or swim along together. I thought as I sat there listening and watching that our most powerful and knowing God must have a sense of humor and beauty to have included this level of detail in His creation.
I would not have gotten to hear or see or appreciate this had I been where I wanted to be this winter. I was being forced to be still and in so doing, was experiencing another amazing aspect of our God.
During our telephone conversation Judy mentioned that she appreciated my laugh and that she remembered it from long ago. It was only then that I realized I had been laughing while we talked. I have not been able to do much of that lately. For quite some time, actually. Even during those normally happy times, such as Lexi's first birthday, there is, as Judy described it, always that darkness creeping in on the edges of the occasion.
Bonnie and I had always laughed easily together. That was just another of the many things I loved about her. To remember that and to actually laugh again was another blessing.
So, in closing, I will say that there are still things for which to be thankful. There is always the love of our God over which to marvel and give thanks. His grace is what is getting me through each day. His plan will someday be revealed. I am trusting that I am where I need to be right now....being still...learning....knowing better.
We were talking about many of the facets of deep grief...what they do to us and how they feel....trying to describe them to one another. We can relate to what each says in that we are both travelling this journey although for very different reasons and she has been on this road longer.
As we talked I mentioned that I had not experienced anger over Bonnie's death. The 'experts' tell us that is a 'stage' of grief that many people experience. Because of the circumstances of Bonnie's passing into heaven, I have not been angry with doctors, nurses, the system, or God. For that I am very thankful.
While I do not appreciate the fact that Bonnie is no longer beside me, I am not angry with God for allowing her to come to Him. You see, I am blessed to maintain my belief that He is in control; that this is a part of His plan; that it will work for good in some way that I cannot imagine. How much more difficult this time without Bonnie would be if I were angry. That would multiply the loss, emptiness and pain.
Along the way in our conversation Judy asked me if I'd been able to sleep these past three months. I realized my answer was probably not what she expected. I said: "Yes".
During the time when Bonnie was so very sick I'd hated the hours between 1 and 4 AM. If I awoke, the worry began. Now, I look forward to that quiet time between going to bed and falling asleep. That is a time of quiet prayer. I find that is a time when I can be close to Bonnie. I am able to fall asleep with her on my mind and sleep through the night. If I should awake, it is ok now. I know she is where she needs to be, she is not in pain, and I am still close to her. I fall back to sleep easily. Another thing for which to be thankful.
Another thing that I realized as I sat there reviewing the past three months is a change of opinion about something. If God is in control, then I must be at this place, at this time for a reason. I've been extremely lonely this winter. I've wanted to be where people are, where things are happening, where there is activity, where there is noise. Instead I've been where it is quiet, still, lonely....and beautiful. I've struggled terribly with this aloneness.
And yet, were it not for being here I would have missed some very important things. By being alone in this quiet place I have been forced to spend time with God. The meaning of the scripture "Be still and know that I am God" was forced upon me.
Those who know me know that I am not one to be still for very long. In fact, I've tried to stay busy, very busy, these past three months. Inevitably however there have been times for quiet reflection, study, reading of the bible. I've been forced to 'be still'. Not only am I reading the bible instead of fiction, I am able to think about what it is saying to me about our God. That has been a wonderful experience. I am coming to know Him better. Another thing for which to be thankful.
Beauty. That is something I've been missing lately. It was here. It always has been. I've just not been appreciating it...or perhaps I've been ignoring it. As our conversation continued, I realized how much beauty I had experienced of late and the appreciation began to return.
Just the other evening I was down on the boat dock as the sun was setting. It was absolutely still. There was not a single ripple between me and the shoreline six miles away. When you live in a place like this you begin to realize there is a schedule to nature. As Hobo and I sat on the dock I experienced something very special. As the birds were returning to their nesting sites for the night, each species made a unique and beautiful sound as they flew, or as the swam, past the dock. Some fly quickly on short wings. Others soar gracefully on long, beautiful wings. Still others swim cautiously close to shore. The wings make different sounds. The birds also whistle or chirp or even clack as they fly, or swim along together. I thought as I sat there listening and watching that our most powerful and knowing God must have a sense of humor and beauty to have included this level of detail in His creation.
I would not have gotten to hear or see or appreciate this had I been where I wanted to be this winter. I was being forced to be still and in so doing, was experiencing another amazing aspect of our God.
During our telephone conversation Judy mentioned that she appreciated my laugh and that she remembered it from long ago. It was only then that I realized I had been laughing while we talked. I have not been able to do much of that lately. For quite some time, actually. Even during those normally happy times, such as Lexi's first birthday, there is, as Judy described it, always that darkness creeping in on the edges of the occasion.
Bonnie and I had always laughed easily together. That was just another of the many things I loved about her. To remember that and to actually laugh again was another blessing.
So, in closing, I will say that there are still things for which to be thankful. There is always the love of our God over which to marvel and give thanks. His grace is what is getting me through each day. His plan will someday be revealed. I am trusting that I am where I need to be right now....being still...learning....knowing better.
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