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The roll of her eyes
said it all.
“I can’t believe she just said that.
Right now.
Already.
So soon.
I’m sorry.”
The chair my sister was occupying
was a short distance from mine,
but I felt her nearness
and it settled my heart.
We were sitting in an office
at the funeral home.
The secretary,
a sweet, helpful woman,
had voluntarily offered to call someone
on my behalf
and follow up on a particular matter.
And, in her defense,
everything she said
was said with the highest level of respect.
Her conversation,
a model of top-notch professionalism.
But, there was that one word.
As we finished our business
and stepped into the fresh air,
I spewed what I had been holding inside.
“She used the “W” word.
We haven’t even had his service yet,
and there’s that word.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
And, I knew she was.
Sorry this was happening.
Sorry we were at this place.
Sorry the “W” word now somehow
belonged to and was associated
with me.
I hadn’t thought about it since,
the “w” word that is,
until several months later
when I came across it
on the pages of God’s Holy Word.
And, there is was again.
Father of orphans,
champion of widows,
is God in his holy house.
Psalm 68:5
” . . . champion of widows.”
The phrase captured every single part of me.
Then,
like a movie playing
in the forefront of my mind,
one by one,
I saw all the unmistakable
workings of God
that had started
the moment my husband’s life
had ended.
I remembered how
the grief and the sorrow
and the trying to
fathom the unfathomable
was at times
overwhelming and too much –
and yet my God,
the champion of widows,
showed up in my corner,
time and time again,
defending me,
upholding me,
sustaining me,
supplying me,
reminding me,
embracing me,
in ways that were
at times also
overwhelming and too much.
And I realized the word,
that at first
wounded my heart
was in fact,
the very word
through which God
was so powerfully at work
in my life.
Heading out the door
for work in the mornings,
the conversation between my husband and I
always went like this:
“God willing, see you tonight, Handsome.”
“Unless I decide to go to Cancun,
in which case,
I’ll send you a postcard, Beautiful.”
“Cancun? A postcard?
You can’t go to Cancun, Handsome.
What would I do here without you?”
“Oh, you’ll be fine, Beautiful.
You’ve got God.”
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18
Never will I leave you. Never will I forsake you.
Hebrews 13:5
For the first time in my life,
these are not simply words
on a thin piece of paper
written years ago,
they are the rock solid foundation
on which I am standing
here and now.
Wrapped up in the inescapable longing
to go back to what once used to be,
woven into the insatiable desire
to once again be with the love of my life,
is this undeniable, unstoppable, unchanging truth:
no matter what may come my way,
no matter how overcome by sorrow I may feel,
no matter where I may be,
no matter who is or isn’t in my life,
I have God,
the champion of widows.
And, because I do,
little by little,
day by day,
I am learning to embrace this new word –
a word that now, somehow,
belongs to and is associated with me,
while all the while
thanking my champion God,
that I will forever
belong to and be associated with Him.
