The title is a description of my old life...but these days I ramble on about widowhood, homeschooling, single parenting, adoption, special-needs parenting, & living a life I never planned for or expected - a life that God, thankfully, continues to strengthen & equip me for daily...
Saturday, June 15, 2013
I was possessed again today by an urge to work on Unwilling Widow Diary. I'm not sure how long I will keep this up, but it seems to be filling a need for now. So, I share.
June 15, 2013
This morning our pastor and another man from church, John, came out and did a walk-through of the house
in order to gain a better understanding of what work remains to be done and so
they can estimate a final cost for me.We
went through, room by room.I told them
what Paul had in mind, but offered some of my own ideas as well that I thought
might save on time and work.John turned
to me and said, “Sarah, I want to honor Paul’s memory by doing this how the way
HE wanted it done.”I was touched by
that.Both and he and Pastor commented
several times on the quality of Paul’s workmanship.They want to get a crew together and knock
this stuff out.I know Paul was thinking
it would be several years before he would get everything done (the final phase
of the basement, the living room, and the bathroom/bedroom project) but maybe
it is going to be done sooner than that? I don’t know.I’m just so amazed it is going to get finished at all.Immediately upon Paul’s death Will began
brainstorming as to how we could finish things up without having to do all the
work Paul had intended.
I am chilled today – it’s coming from inside me, I can
tell.A fatigue has settled into my
bones as well, although it doesn’t cause me to sleep any better.I am still dependent on the Advil PMs to fall
asleep at all.
I changed our sheets yesterday.Painful.I carefully folded them up and put them in a large ziplock bag.I will never use them again.But as I crawled into bed I was reminded of
how appreciative Paul always was when I did get around to putting fresh sheets
on the bed.He’d stretch out his legs
and wiggle his toes over the clean sheets.I wonder if someone changes his sheets in Heaven?Maybe there’s no sleep there – I don’t know.
I found out yesterday that a dear friend has been dx with
breast cancer.It’s really serious and
her prognosis does not look good right now.She has two young teenagers and a 5 month old baby.The hits keep coming.
A number of people – primarily, those that are not in close
fellowship with the Lord – have commented to me that they just don’t know “why”
this happened.I’ve been thinking about
that.Of course, I don’t know the why,
either.But right now, I can say that
that is ok.I don’t have to know
why.I mean, this is God we’re talking
about.I am reminded of Job where God
points out that He was there when the earth was being formed and orchestrated
all the events of Creation.Who are WE
to question God?That said, though, I am
still filled with a number of concerns, even if I don’t have to have an answer
to God’s thinking.I was talking to Him
the other night and complaining/wailing about just how on earth was I supposed
to do this – raising the kids, continuing to homeschool, the house, the
finances, vehicles, the lonliness, the lack of companionship, holidays, my empty
bed, etc.I immediately sensed the voice of God.You know, there have been just a few times –
less than a handful – where I can say I honestly heard the voice of
God.This was one of them.It was quiet, but it was sure. The voice said,
That was all – “TrustMe.”I have no choice but to obey.But it will be one of the harder things I’ve
ever done.At the same time, though, it
has to be easier than trying to figure out things on my own.
I’m reading a book on grief right now that was given to me a
Christmastime.A friend of a friend
wrote it, which is how I ended up with a copy. I had just asked God for a book that I didn’t
have to buy and less than an hour later I discovered this small white book
stashed on the bookshelf out in the old office.I’m finding it helpful.I would
like to find a book specifically written to widows, though. There must be something.It occurred to me this morning that Elisabeth
Elliot was widowed young.I’ve always
enjoyed her ministry.I wonder if she
wrote something during that time of her life that I could use right now.
I’ve gotten up to the cemetery every day this week.I sit up there, chatting away to Paul.I feel a bit like a crazy lady, but it helps.
I’ve even stuffed a plastic stool in the
van that I can sit on while there.I
wonder how long it will take for Paul’s grave to fill in and not look so
fresh.I found another recent grave up
there and the marker said the occupant died in late January.So I guess it takes awhile for the earth to
recover from being disturbed like that.I
need to find a monument company.I know
what I want for Paul’s tombstone – simple, but something more than just his
name and dates.He would not want me to
spend much money, I know that.It will
have to wait, anyway, until after the insurance money arrives.
I received a letter from the organ donor people today.They listed out all the body parts of Paul
they were able to salvage.It’s a lot –
his corneas, a lot of skin, veins, heart valves.I’m pleased that parts of him are going to
help others.Of course, I’d be more
pleased if he were still the one using them!
Marcia (our pastor’s wife) gave us a cd of12 of Paul’s special music numbers recorded
over the last few years.She gave me
quite a few copies with the assurance she can make even more.David put them onto my mp3 player.Paul was such a “minister” and it was rare
for him to ever get up and just sing.He
had to “introduce” his music.So not
only do we hear him sing, but he speaks on this cd as well.I find it enormously comforting.I fear forgetting the sound of his voice and
now I don’t ever have to worry about that.
I am amazed that I have managed to type so much today.I am literally short of breath as I do this
from a crushing weight in my chest.I
would think that would prohibit me from much creativity.Maybe typing is healing.
I am struggling with regrets the past few days.Memories of my shortfalls in our marriage are
creeping in.There are so many things I
wish I would have done, or not done, or done differently.There were times I could have been more
loving, more self-sacrificing and wasn’t.Why was I so stubborn about certain things?Why was it so important that I have my own
way?I wonder if it is the Enemy
bringing these things to mind.Or maybe
it’s just a natural occurrence when losing someone.I don’t know.I don’t like it.I think I just
need to focus on the positive things.And there were a lot of positive things.
Yesterday I wandered around the cemetery a bit and read an
inscription that said, “He loved and was loved.”That describes my Paul, perfectly.