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Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 3:13-14 (ESV)

The night I cleaned out the office was more painful than the funeral itself. Who knew it would lead to a breakthrough moment seventeen years later?

It was about a month after Tom passed away, and I had been avoiding it. But that night, I tucked my four little boys into bed, steeled myself, and started sorting through his office. It took me until dawn to finish.

Tom’s office was a reflection of who he was—creative, full of ideas, and deeply invested in his family. Scattered across his desk and shelves were notes scribbled with plans, not just for his business but for us: me, the kids, and our future together. There were gadgets he used to play with the boys, receipts, calendar plans, and all the little pieces that made up his life.

I was tempted to bulldoze through it, toss everything into boxes, and move on. But something stopped me. Instead, I decided to carefully go through every paper, every item, and make a decision: keep it, treasure it, or let it go. His life was so intertwined with ours, and his office was such a personal space. I wanted to honor that.

That’s when the idea struck me to create time capsules for our boys.

I had made similar keepsakes for his older children from a previous marriage, but this time it felt different. This was from our home, where he had romped with the boys, dreamed big dreams, and lived out his love for us.

Seventeen years later, on Christmas morning, my grown sons each received a small wrapped box.

Inside were treasures from their dad’s office: a pocket knife from his collection, his wallet stuffed with receipts and photos, handwritten notes on plans he had for vacations or activities, and his quirky paperweight. As they opened their boxes, the room came alive with exclamations of “Oh, I remember this!” and “He always used to…” For a moment, it felt like Tom was right there with us under the Christmas tree.

But as precious as that moment was, something even more profound emerged.

After the laughter and tears, the boys closed their boxes, set them aside, and moved on with their plans for the day. They cherished the memories, but they didn’t dwell there. They were focused on their lives, their futures, and the goals ahead.

Pressing forward is exactly what Paul teaches us in Philippians.

While it’s meaningful to look back and remember, we are called to press forward. Grieving is necessary, and so is treasuring the moments we had with our loved ones. But we must not let the past hinder our progress toward the upward call of God.

As widows, so much of our identity has been tied to the wonderful men we shared our lives with. But just as my boys packed up their keepsakes and returned to their busy lives, we, too, are called to pack up the tears, carry the gratitude, and keep moving forward. Our marriages were gifts from God, and the memories we hold should fuel us with thankfulness as we continue to live as daughters of the King.

Grieving is not a one-and-done process. There are moments when I’m overwhelmed by tears, but after releasing them, I’m reminded of the abundant grace God has poured into my life. The love I shared with Tom propels me to embrace new friendships, find new ways to serve, and further His kingdom.

Our ultimate goal isn’t just to live in the past but to press on toward the prize—standing before the Lord, taking the crown He gives us, and joyfully laying it at His feet. The journey forward is where we find purpose, growth, and the fulfillment of our upward call in Christ Jesus.

Lord Jesus,

Help each and every one of us widows take that great loss, be comforted as we grieve, and use the recognition that You graced us with our lovely husbands to propel us forward with our identity in You right there in our hearts.