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On any given night,
sleep doesn’t come easy for me.
On the evening of February 4,
the night I lost my husband,
it didn’t come at all.
The next night,
when it finally did come,
it came for only a few brief hours,
in the wee moments of the morning,
from 4:00 am until about 6:30 am.
But then,
then,
there was the waking up.
Feeling the overwhelming emptiness
in my bed,
in my heart,
in my life,
before my barely open eyes
even had time to focus in
on this new place I found myself.
And the realization,
that where I now am –
here without my man –
is not a dream,
but the view that will greet me
each and every single moment
upon waking
day after day after day,
ripped my heart anew,
and I sobbed
until I could hardly breathe.
The aloneness – too much.
The realness of his loss – too much.
The not being able to “wake up”
from all that has happened
and be back
to “what used to be” –
too much.
I phoned my sister,
miles away,
headed to the airport,
on her way to see me.
“Oh, sweetie. Are you ok?
Were you able to sleep?”
I tried to speak between sobs.
“Yes. But, then, . . . .
then . . . .
I woke up.
And, . . . . I was so . . . . . . .
disappointed.
So very disappointed.”
Disappointed.
This word didn’t come close
to describing how I felt,
but since a more fitting word
has yet to be thought up,
it was all I had.
“I know, Hun, I know.”
We talked for a few more minutes,
then she hung up,
promising to call from the airport.
Left alone,
once again,
I did the only thing
I knew to do.
I reached for my Bible
and I cried out to God.
Oh, my Abba Father,
what am I going to do?
Me without him?
Here by myself?
No good morning hug?
No goodnight prayers and kiss?
No listening to his snoring?
No sleeping beside him night by night?
No living beside him day by day?
And, waking up, Lord –
how am I going to survive
waking up to this,
waking up to alone,
waking up to missing him,
waking up to just me,
morning after morning after morning?
And, God,
in this moment,
like in every single moment of our life,
did what He does best.
As I opened my Bible,
His precious Spirit led me to this:
How precious are Your thoughts
about me, O God.
They cannot be numbered!
I can’t even count them;
they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up,
You are still with me!
Psalm 139:17-18
And, I heard His sweet Spirit
whisper to mine,
“You aren’t alone, my sweet child.
You will never be alone.
For even in the waking up,
I am still here.”
