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Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.
Ecclesiastes 3:11 (NLT)

I remember reading this verse shortly after becoming a widow. Snuggled up in my big bed, between two little boys, ages 8 and 9, as they drifted off to sleep.

Hot tears coursed down my cheeks, creating pools of salty bitterness as I soaked in these Old Testament words.

Beautiful?

How in the name of Jesus Christ could God EVER make something beautiful out of this dark, lonely, oppressive mess I found my family smack dab in the midst of?

I couldn’t fathom how to get through the night, much less how to get through the emotions weighing on me so heavily. Sometimes I wondered if I could even take another breath, the pain was devastating.

Two boys no longer had their daddy physically by their sides. I no longer had my partner, the one person (this side of heaven) that loved me for me.

I felt like I was moving in slow motion, while the world around me moved at warp speed. Life continued, despite my best efforts to keep it at bay.

Primarily a New Testament girl until age 48, I discovered the Old Testament offered me more during my grieving process.

Sometimes it’s not pretty. Sometimes it’s downright difficult to digest. But for folks in the midst of a crisis, where lollipops and rainbows and perfection don’t exist, the Old Testament is the grit and soul of the Bible.

God’s timing? I’ve never understood it.

And, at age 50, I think I’ve finally become okay with that.

Reading the heart-wrenchingly beautiful book of Ecclesiastes from start to finish as a widow of three months was difficult but necessary for this Texan.

“Yet God made everything beautiful for its own time…”

Really, God? Where’s the beauty in watching my sons suffer?

Where’s the beauty in being alone, after being part of a couple for over twenty years?

Where’s the beauty in figuring out how to mow a yard, replace a light fixture, or repair a clothes dryer?

Just how many buckets of tears can one woman cry?

The sad list changed constantly. It was seemingly endless. But God’s answer remained the same: unchanging, unwavering, and steadfast.

The widow must trust God’s timing.

I drank in that book of Ecclesiastes for the first time a bit over two years ago.

Looking back now, I can see the hand of God, the interweaving of beauty through the ashes, and the pain of my family during this journey.

Life is different. That may be the understatement of the year for me.

I’m not who I was. Neither are my boys.

We bear the scars of losing a daddy and husband, a best friend and provider. But the scars are proof of our healing.

God has taken this very bad-no-good-horrible-mess and transformed it into beauty.

In His time.

Laughter has replaced the tears in our home. We smile, sometimes until our cheeks hurt. We belly laugh until our sides hurt.

In His time.

I run to upbeat contemporary Christian tunes, pounding the pavement, thanking God for the beauty He’s created from the ashes of my life.

In His time.

Sisters, do not ever doubt the Word of God.

He will keep His promises.

Pour over scripture, especially in the Old Testament, to soothe your souls.

Whenever a widow friend told me shortly after my husband’s death one day I would just wake up, finding life was again worth living, I smiled sweetly, and thanked her, all the while thinking,

“Yeah, right…”

But right she was. One day a couple of months ago, I did wake up, like I had been in a deep slumber. I am once again eager to experience life, ready for whatever God has in His plans for my boys and me.

You will do the same, dear one.

In His time.

Heavenly Father, I come to You today, giving You thanks for my storm and for the beauty that has come from it. Help each of us be patient, to hold to Your promises of making everything beautiful for its own time. Your time must be our time. In the name of Your blessed Son, Amen.