Tears

There's an old country song called If Teardrops Were Pennies. The chorus goes on to say if heartaches were gold.

Crying in the Rain is an old Everly Brothers song.

I've been thinking about tears of late. It's not that I've been crying a lot--I haven't but it does seem my heart is often moved to the point of tears.

The thing is--those tears, or near tears,  really aren't painful anymore.

I wouldn't even say they are healing--something else seems to be happening.

The Lord seems to be telling me to be unafraid of these tears. These are no longer tears coming from my grief.

They are tears for the pain and brokenness of others. I know that might sound strange or even weird but my new-found sensitivity is not for myself alone. I cry for a broken world and the broken people around me.

And as allow my heart to be tender I believe God is doing something--in me, of course--but for others as well.

And so I press on.

The sovereignty of God

I've reached a place where I can say life is hard but God is good. And I can also say I'm at peace with my life and with the sovereignty of God.

That doesn't take away from the pain of loss and grief but I know that under all of that is a God who is real, who is sovereign and who is good in all he does--even when I don't understand. And I'm not sure I'll ever fully understand the why of Faye dying suddenly on the morning of January 17, 2018. But I've released, or let go, of my need to understand.

Part of that understanding is letting go of Faye. She belongs, present tense, to God. She always belonged, past tense, to God. As important as she was to me she did not belong to me, for that matter, I did not belong to her, she belonged to God, her creator, the one who loved her from before her birth.

And I'm at peace with that.

And so I press on.

Soli Deo Gloria.

Life is changing

Grief is different for everybody. Relationships are different and grieving people are different--nobody is the same

For me, 27 months after losing Faye, I feel the vicissitudes of grief are levelling out.  I never go a day without thinking of my enthusiastic, energetic, friendly Faye. but I'm reading to live my life again.

I'm almost embarrassed to think I've more or less lost two years of my life but the past is the past--it is time to embrace the new.

Odd reminders

I've been binge watching a Discovery Channel program called Flying Wild Alaska.

It's about the Tweto family, who run Era Alaska, an airline serving rural areas of Alaska. I find it an absolutely fascinating glimpse at the challenges of running a particular business (in this case an airline).

But I also am drawn to it because of one of the daughters--Ariel.

I've been wondering why I find myself so drawn to her, other than the fact she's pretty. And I realize it's because she reminds me of my Faye.

That is, if Faye was an Eskimo (in Canada we say Inuit but she calls herself an Eskimo) and grew up in a family that ran an airline rather than a farm, and spent her early life in northern Alaska rather than Saskatchewan.

Here's how she reminds me of Faye:

She has endless energy, just like Faye, is a bundle of enthusiasm, just like Faye, she's extremely chatty, just like Faye, she is a super friendly extrovert, just like Faye, she likes hospitality, just like Faye, she likes stink flipper, well Faye never heard to stink flipper.
she's kind of innocent, just like Faye and she has a beautiful smile, just like my Faye. In fact she's pretty much always smiling, on the television program at least.

The only exception was an episode when she learned the younger brother of a friend had committed suicide, which is an all too common occurrence in Alaska's rural communities.

It's funny, the things that remind me of Faye--in this case a bubbly, chatty young woman with a perpetual smile.

It brings nothing but happiness to me, today, to be reminded of the things that made Faye special.

And I press on

Bruised but not broken

The pain is fading, in fact it has mostly disappeared.

The bruise, however, remains.

I've had a mental image of having a bruised heel. I'm thinking the experience of Jacob at the Ford of Jabbok.

Here's where I'm going with this. I may have a limp for the rest of my life. I may be marked for the rest of my life. In fact, how can I not be marked by the loss of my wife of 24 years.

But I am living again and that bruise will not defeat me, or hold me back or prevent from living my life with purpose and experiencing joy.

I'm bruised but not broken. I fact I truly believe I am stronger now in broken places. God is with me.

And I will press on I will run again, I declare that to be the truth.

Pressing on to my high calling.

Would she want me to be happy?

I've often had people tell me that Faye would want me to be happy. That's a nice sentiment, but would she? I don't know.

I'm firmly convinced Faye is more alive than ever. And, yes, I assume she would want me to be happy.

Does that offer me comfort? Not really. We can't communicate until the day we meet again, which, again, I'm firmly convinced will.

What does offer strength and comfort is my confidence in the sovereignty of God and the presence of His Holy Spirit.

John 15:11 says "I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete."

That's the thing, my joy and my strength are to be where they have always had to be--in the Lord.

I live to know Him and to love and to find my strength and satisfaction in Him.

And so I press on.

Forgetting what lies behind

One part of this verse refers to pressing on toward the goal to win the prize.

But another part refers to forgetting what lies behind and I think that is just as important.

What lies behind? Well, for one, the life I had with Faye. Missing the woman I spent 24 years is a normal and necessary part of grieving. I still miss her.

That life, however, is gone forever. I have to live a new life. Nostalgia is part of my life. Maybe it will always be part of my life. But I cannot, dare not, let it be a trap.

I have more life ahead. I fully intend to live that life to the best of my ability. I can't try to live in what I once had, that life is gone.

But here's another thing that I need to leave behind.
The last two years have been hard, I've had my moments of brain fog, I've made mistakes and there are things I should have been doing that I forgot to do. Call it grief, or call it mild depression my life is a bit of a mess--including doing virtually nothing by way of income producing activity.

Another example is the pounds of put on. I'm unhappy about that.

But things happen. The past is the past. I need to live today, that includes developing a productive and healthy life again.

There's another thing. Sometimes, things are said that can be hurtful during the worst times in a person's life. Fortunately I can't at the moment remember any. I want to leave it that. And remember the people who blessed me.

And so I press on.

Soli Deo Gloria