Satisfying a Longing

The minute Nate and I learned of his cancer diagnosis, I wanted to talk to Mom, but she died in 2005. I knew she would have delivered wise counsel as our feet left the edge of the cliff we’d just been pushed from. She didn’t mince words or say flowery things that would perfume over the truth. And at that moment, I wanted the truth, raw as it might be. I craved her empathy and wanted to ask what I should do next.

As Nate and I sat looking out the van windshield on our drive back to Michigan that day, stunned by what we’d just heard, I needed someone who’d already traveled through hardship to come alongside and whisper wisdom into my ear. The unsatisfied longing to talk to Mom popped up again and again during the six tumultuous weeks of Nate’s illness. Oh how I yearned for her advice, her leveling. But as the old proverb says, “Wishing doesn’t make it so.”

Today, however, I heard from Mom. It happened in a most unlikely way, and I view it as God’s gentle plan to fill up the pothole of longing in my heart.

Mom in red coat

A friend from childhood named Al who often comments on my blog, mentioned the close relationship our two mothers had had. These women raised their children together so closely, the kids grew up thinking they were all cousins. When Al’s father died, his mother, Ione, received a long letter from my mother, written four days after the death. The letter was meaningful enough to save for 43 years and was re-read again and again.

Today both of those women are gone, but the letter isn’t. Al thought it would hearten me now, in my new life-assignment without Nate, so he mailed me a copy. When I opened his envelope this morning, the first thing I saw was Mom’s familiar handwriting on four pages of stationary. That alone made me smile.

I set aside the letter for a quiet moment later on, eventually sitting down with a mug of cranberry tea and an eagerness to hear from Mom. I read it twice, thinking of the sweet relationship between these two women. Then it occurred to me that since I believe God put the letter into my hands to help me, too, I would read it one more time as if Mom had written it directly to me, a new widow just like Ione had been. And from the letter, here is the gist of her counsel after she began with, “Dear, always-brave [Margaret]” :

  • Think back at least three generations and count your blessings. Thank God for “stoic, loyal, living examples of the Scriptures – steadfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord. Bless the memory of those who lived long, long ago.”
  • Cherish your women friends. Receive their comfort. They are “…golden threads of friendship which, through the years, have knit [you] together in a near-holy bond of fellowship. Who would have dreamed [your] socializing could have become such a blessing?”Ione's letter 2
  • Never doubt that God took [Nate] home for important reasons. “Perhaps the bodily affliction that laid him aside was for his grooming in the hand of God.”
  • Be grateful for the family you still have on this earth, even though your husband, the family leader, is gone. And remember with fondness that Nate loved each family member and the warm home you made for him. “A man could ask for no more, earth-wise.”
  • “The greatest of your blessings is – as you well know – the presence of Christ in your lives and your home. Herein is Love.”
  • As for [Nate], “he is very alive in the presence of the Lord… with the very Lord who gave him you, [Margaret], and the children [and grandchildren].”
  • Now, “work harder than ever for the Lord, because of your [Nate]. I commend you to the God of all comfort.”

Only God could have orchestrated such a creative way to not only help me during a time of need and encourage me for weeks to come, but also to do it in a way that filled the longing in my heart to hear directly from Mom.

“‘All this,’ David said, ‘I have in writing from the hand of the Lord upon me, and he gave me understanding in all the details of the plan.’ David also said to Solomon, his son, ‘Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you until all the work … is finished.’” (1 Chronicles 28:19-20)

Changing Expectations

An important part of my transition to widow-status is to consciously set a different standard. For example, every time I think, “Nate will be home soon,” immediately on its heels is a second thought, “He isn’t coming.” My widow friends tell me these “false starts” will happen less and less often, but for now, each thought-couplet (he’s coming; he’s not coming) is a fresh disappointment.

Riding this emotional see-saw drains energy, but I can’t wish it away. The passing of time helps, they say, because all major change takes some getting used to. I buy that, because I’m doing better this week than last, which was better than the week before that. Nate always used to say, “The only constant in life is change.” I know that wasn’t original with him, but it’s his voice I hear in my ears, reminding me of this truth. Life has changed dramatically for both of us. At first I categorized his change as positive (heaven) and mine as negative (widowhood), but I’m trying to pull away from that now, opting instead to call our changes “different”.

With a windy snowstorm today, our new winter season is shouting about change. Christmas without Nate is also telling us how radically our holidays will change. But just like the current seasonal changes, I’ve come to a new life-season personally. Nate has begun his eternal life season. I’ve begun the season of widowhood.

What could possibly be positive about that? After all, I’ll be without a partner at weddings, graduations, funerals, christenings, any formal gathering where Nate and I used to go together. I’ll sleep alone, drive alone, shop alone, do everything we used to do together, alone. The first thing to do is to set aside false expectations about my new season. When I see a couple leaning against each other in church, instead of thinking “if only,” I need to tell myself, “You’re done with that season now.” It isn’t the end of the world.

There’s a Scripture passage that says, “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man [or woman], I put away childish things.” (1 Corinthians 13:11) The season of childhood ends for all of us. Many of the things we’ve looked at as positives from the perspective of a child disappear when we become adults, but that doesn’t mean new good things aren’t coming.

So far, I’ve only been faced with the negatives of this new season of widowhood.  Today I’m working on changing that. Will there eventually be positives? I believe there will be, for one reason: God doesn’t pull the rug out from under us without planning to catch us when we fall. But even better than that, I believe he has a brand new positive plan for me, a new place to stand “on a new rug,” so to speak. Although it won’t include Nate, I have confidence it will be a good plan anyway. I don’t yet know what it is, but in due time the Lord will show me.

Midge plus kids

In the mean time, he’s given me a little peek at what my new season will hold. It will involve grandbabies, five so far (2 born, 3 almost born). I know it will include travel to see these little people in Florida and England. I know I’ll need to swing a paint brush to freshen up our needy cottage. I know I’ll learn to think like a widow, which will expand my understanding of all the widows who have preceded me into this season. I’m in their club now, and being “included” will be a good thing.

I want to fulfill whatever purpose God has in mind for me from here on, and do the work he’ll assign me to do. As my missionary friend is fond of saying, “God’s work done in God’s way will find God’s supply.” I know I’m going to make it, and I know it’s going to be good.

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven… and a time to heal…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1,3a)

The Love Dare

Many of us saw a movie in 2008 called “Fireproof” about a couple whose marriage was falling apart. The husband was challenged to secretly do loving things for his wife for 40 days straight in an effort to warm their relationship. It was a good story based on biblical principles, and Nate and I enjoyed the movie. Several months later, bookstores showcased THE LOVE DARE, a book detailing the 40 days of love. Each chapter ended with a “dare” to do something kind for husband or wife.Love Dare 2

Last December, I saw the book on sale and decided it might be fun to quietly do 40 days of good deeds for Nate as we started a new year. We weren’t having any marriage struggles at the time, but I bought the book, always wanting to make our marriage better.

I made THE LOVE DARE part of my daily devotional time and looked forward to seeing what each new “dare” would be. The first one was to “say nothing negative to your spouse” all day. That wasn’t difficult, and I checked it off with ease.

The second day instructed, “Do one unexpected gesture.” While Nate was on the train heading to work, I called his answering machine and thanked him for being willing to go to work on a nine degree morning, to battle it out for our benefit. I also thanked him for plunging a toilet before leaving and carrying six loads of dirty clothes to the laundry room. Journaling as the book suggests, I listed my phone call as the unexpected gesture but also the six things he did for me before 7:00 AM.

As the days ticked away, I completed each “dare” and learned new things about my husband. I learned he loved me far more unconditionally than I loved him, and I became increasingly thankful I was married to Nate.

As our moving date came closer and life picked up speed, I found it harder to get to THE LOVE DARE book. A month went by. Then two. Eventually I lost track of the book but figured I’d find it when we unpacked after the move. Four months went by but finally it surfaced. I wanted to continue, having seen interesting gains in our relationship, so began again on September 20 at about the half way point.

Two days later, we heard those words, “Pancreatic cancer, metastasized, inoperable, incurable.” And in the swirl of activity that followed, there wasn’t one minute to do any more “dares”.

Today I looked at the last “dare” I’d done for Nate. It was to spend focused time in prayer for him. On the journal page I wrote, “I enjoyed praying for Nate more than an hour this morning and am excited to watch for the Lord’s fresh activity in and around his life!”

The Scripture for that day was, “Beloved, I pray that in all respects you may prosper and be in good health, just as your soul prospers.” (3 John 2)

To read that now makes me ache. But the events that unfolded after my hour of prayer for Nate were so unusual, I can’t view them as anything but God’s doing. As I’d requested in prayer that day, I did get to see “the Lord’s fresh activity in and around his life.” It just looked wildly different than I’d envisioned, and it was contrary to what I’d wanted. But God isn’t predictable and doesn’t do our bidding. We know only what’s in front of us. He looks over our heads and sees the distant future and all the good that will be part of that.

I regret not finishing THE LOVE DARE. Between January and November, I had plenty of time to complete 40 days of “dares”. Had I known Nate’s life would come to a screeching halt on November 3, I’d have been more diligent about getting through the book, but I thought I had all the time in the world.

The achy verse from 3 John actually had it right. Nate’s soul is indeed prospering (understatement!), and he is definitely in good health!

“Therefore I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they will be granted you.” (Mark 11:24)