{{item.title | uppercase}}

I don’t do crossword puzzles, although I do enjoy a good word-find puzzle! Two years ago, while recovering from knee replacement surgery, a friend gave me a Sudoku puzzle book to occupy me as I recuperated in my comfortable recliner.

If you’re unfamiliar with Sudoku, here’s the basic idea:

A Sudoku puzzle is a large square divided into nine smaller squares, each with nine spaces. The goal is to place the numbers 1 through 9 in every square, row, and column without repeating a number. The puzzle begins with some numbers already printed in place. These are called “givens.” They cannot be changed. The remaining spaces are filled by using strategy and the process of elimination.

It is a mind-boggling process, but one I oddly enjoy—until I think I have almost every number in the correct place and suddenly discover that something doesn’t work. Before long, I’m moving numbers around, erasing, and rethinking my decisions. That’s why I always use a pencil!

Recently, while sitting by the pool on a hot day during a beach vacation, I opened my puzzle book and started the first puzzle. As I filled in the last few spaces, I realized my numbers weren’t working. I went back and analyzed each section, trying to find my mistake. But the more I looked, the more frustrated I became.

Finally, I thought, “Let’s start over.”

I erased my work and eventually abandoned that puzzle for another one. When I got stuck on the next puzzle, I looked in the back of the book to verify answers. Is that cheating? Perhaps. I prefer to think of it as asking for a little help!

So what does any of this have to do with widowhood?

Good question. I’m glad you asked because** widowhood is a lot like a Sudoku puzzle.**

The Givens We Didn’t Choose

When you open a Sudoku puzzle, some numbers are already there. They are the “givens.” You didn’t put them there, and you can’t change them. They are simply part of the puzzle.

Life has givens too.

Some of them are wonderful—the family we were born into, the people we have loved, experiences that have shaped us, and opportunities we’ve been given.

But some of life’s givens are painful. They are circumstances we didn’t choose and cannot change.

• We didn’t choose to lose our spouse.
• We didn’t choose the circumstances surrounding their death.
• We can’t change the fact that they are gone.
• We can’t go back and have one more conversation or relive one more ordinary day.
• We can’t change the past.

Those are givens.

One of the hardest parts of widowhood is accepting that there are things we cannot change. Acceptance doesn’t mean we’ve stopped grieving or stopped wishing things could be different. It doesn’t mean we approve of what happened or are grateful for our loss. It simply means acknowledging what we cannot change and recognizing that this is now part of our story.

But here’s where the Sudoku analogy becomes hopeful:

The givens don’t make the puzzle impossible.

They are what make the puzzle solvable.

The numbers that are already there provide a starting point. They give us information and establish boundaries. We use what we know to determine what comes next.

In widowhood, we may not be able to change what happened, but we can begin with what is true:

• This happened.
• My spouse is gone.
• This hurts.
• I am still here.
• God is still here.
• I have a life left to live.

What Can We Change?

In Sudoku, I can’t change the numbers that were given to me, but I can decide what I do with the empty spaces.

Widowhood is much the same. I cannot change what happened or bring my husband back. I cannot rewrite yesterday. But empty spaces remain in my life. There are still choices to make, relationships to nurture, people to love, places to go, and ways to serve.

What feels like an impossible puzzle is not an impossible puzzle to God.

This reminds me of Romans 8:28 (NIV)…

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

We see a handful of numbers and a whole lot of empty spaces. God knows where it all fits in!

We may not know what belongs in the next space. Sometimes we make mistakes and have to erase something. Frustration may set in, and we may need to start again. We might even need to look at the answer key for a little help.

And that’s okay.

When I realize I cannot see how all the pieces of my life fit together, Proverbs 3:5–6 (NIV) gives me a different way to work through this “puzzle”.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight

We cannot change the givens, but we can trust God with the empty spaces.

The entire puzzle doesn’t have to be solved today.

We only need to trust God with the next square.

Dear Lord, this puzzle we call widowhood is hard, and we need you to guide us through the “empty spaces”. Forgive us when we run in our own strength and try to figure this out by ourselves. Show us the way forward and what goes in those empty spaces of life.