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“to grant to those who mourn in Zion—to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.”
Isaiah 61:3 ESV

I stand in this woman’s kitchen answering basic questions that shouldn’t make me bristle. My friend and I are visiting a church small group that meets in her home. It is our first time; the hostess is gracious and kind, simply making small talk.

“Do you have children?”

“Do you work outside of your home?”

I try my best to politely answer and escape the questioning before she touches on the subject of my husband. It’s more than my not wanting to experience the awkward shock that comes when people meet a young(ish) widow. It’s even more than not wanting to look back into yet another sympathetic face made when others learn of my situation. It is simply that:

I don’t want to be identified by my scars.

I am a forty-something mother of two teenagers. I am more than a widow. I am an employee at a wonderful medical practice. I am more than a widow. I am a writer and a speaker. I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a niece and a friend. I am so much more than a widow!

My children are more than the loss of their father. “Half-orphans”, yes…but they are so much more! They are academic competitors. They are athletes. They are my son and my daughter with friendships of their own. They are more than children who have lost their dad!

I am a few years into widowhood and while I will always be Tim’s widow, I don’t want to use it as a crutch or an excuse to not be all that God has called me to be. I want to be known as Lori.

Lori the encourager.

Lori the God-chaser.

Lori the involved mother.

Lori the genuine friend.

Lori the hard-worker.

Lori the team player.

“Widow” is only one of my labels. I am so much more. As my healing journey progresses, I find myself desiring to let my other truths move to the forefront and show themselves as more dominant than my scars of widowhood.

Am I torn and damaged? Yes, I am.

Am I covered in jagged scars on the inside? Most definitely, yes.

Just like scarring is a natural part of the healing process after an injury on the outside of our bodies,

God is fortifying the gashes of our hearts and souls with healing tissue; ever so gently binding up the raw ends. He is injecting them with His love, operating on them with His peace, and smoothing their surface with His assurance that we are MORE.

We are more than our circumstances, ladies. Hear me sisters, we ARE more than our past. We are more than our pain. We are survivors! We are children of the Most High God.

I want to be living life so fully and beautifully that people I meet in the future are shocked to learn I am a widow. I want my kids to be so outrageously successful throughout high school, in college, and their adult lives that new friends are stunned to hear they lost their dad while still in junior high.

For these wishes to come true, the three of us have to start making choices now; choices to not lead with our pain; choices to show the world that we are so much more than our scars.

Lord, thank You for reminding us that in You, we are more. You created us for so much more than one label, help us to shine for You. May we wear our scars with pride because of the healing power You have infused in them. Enable us to lead with Your healing presence in us instead of the pain. Amen.