Re Solving the Future

Widows face unique and challenging obstacles as they progress through the process of grief in search of their future. For however many years they spent building their lives with their husbands, the vision and embodiment of the future was a combination of their entwined dreams incorporating the two of them together living out that future. When death invades and removes the husband, the surviving widow is faced with resolving— that is re-solving — or solving all over from scratch, what her future will be.

Everyone wants to experience a full and healthy life. When you spend nearly all your adult life and most of your existence in the company of your husband, naturally your dreams and expectations for the future were built combining the passions and strengths of both people to fashion a vision you shared. It was stretched between you as you each clutched to hold it up. Removing one of the poles sends the canvass falling to the ground, no longer visible.

Where there is no vision, the people perish.

Proverbs 29: 18

Widows face the daunting task of finding a new future… void of the person they counted on to share the unknown. They must figure out how to describe themselves – no longer a wife, no longer a part of a couple. They have to consider the likelihood of keeping the future they always dreamed… is it even possible… will it still bring fulfillment… could it be altered—or should it be left on the heap of loss.

I still don’t know what I want my future to look like. I’m learning I need to heal enough from the trauma of loss. I needed to start slowly. In the beginning it was breath by breath. Eventually I could make it step by step—quite literally making my feet move one step forward at a time. After a while I could sometimes plan something a little into the future… though it was hesitantly. I tried some things that worked. I tried things that didn’t. I would plan something and completely forget I did. I would want to do something and find I didn’t have the courage when the time came. It was like groping around in the dark and constantly stubbing my toe.

Within your heart you can make plans for your future, but the Lord chooses the steps you take to get there.

Proverbs 16: 9

We make plans and set goals to turn dreams into action steps. The best plan I can make right now is to seek God for guidance and ask Him to direct my path. I feel like a toddler learning how to walk and keep falling down. It’s like my legs are still trying out new muscles that need to grow strong. I need to trust God to help me have the courage to keep getting back up and trying to walk again. 

Your future is bright and filled with a living hope that will never fade away. As you listen to Me, My beloved child, you will grow in wisdom and your heart will be drawn into understanding, which will empower you to make right decisions.

Proverbs 23: 18-19

Please pray with me.

Father God, please help guide and protect us as we adopt new ways of living in this world as we adapt to life without our beloved husband. Show us the future You planned for us… a future filled with hope. Please comfort and heal our hearts. Reveal the desires and gifts You created in us and make clear our dreams. Help us find the right people and resources to encourage and promote these dreams. Give us the courage and fortitude to pursue them with passion and give You all the glory and honor. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

 

Who Am I?

Becoming a widow put my identity on a chopping block. Not only did my perception of myself change, but it seems like everyone else’s idea of who I am did too. I lost all concept of who I am. My family and friends defined me over time and placed me in a box and limited the way they recognized me. I was married for almost 37 years and that image of me was confined to seeing me as part of a couple and in relationship with and to my husband. Who I was got sifted through a filter that always took into consideration the impact of our interconnection with each other. The people around me had ideas who they thought I was… they didn’t know the half of it. It feels like they have no desire to help me, let alone let me, find "me" in my rubble of my shattered heart.

I’ve always had a tendency to bury my feelings and just put on a happy face. During my husband’s long debilitating illness, I chose to attend to his needs and ignore mine. I kept telling myself there would be plenty of time for me later… that I wanted to make the most of whatever time we had together. Could I just be too “full” of all those unanswered questions, heartbreak, and confusion? Does it spill out without restraint like the container that held it is broken? How do I safely release the pent up chaos so I can heal?

The pandemic arrived about four months after I became a widow. These last couple years added unprecedented chaos on top of what we are already carrying by adding new layers of isolation and separation, mixed with unlimited uncertainty and constantly changing rules. This was something new to everyone and we all reacted from different mindsets, circumstances and levels of security. One family member told me early on that I just needed to “buck up” because my pain was no different than anyone else’s because everyone was suffering. They told me I was just being selfish to think I deserved attention or understanding, and I just needed to “get over it.”

I learned to say “I’m fine” when someone asked how I was doing. What they didn’t know was “fine” was a safe word my husband and I used to let each other know something was not right when we were around other people and didn’t want to talk about it in front of them. It was our signal to each other to possibly find a graceful way to leave, or be a topic we would explore when we got home. When I became a widow, I was admonished, belittled or ridiculed so many times when I attempted to explore or explain how I really was, I retreated to a safe place. It made me miss him even more, but it also somehow made me feel justified and rationalize I wasn’t lying.

Widows experience so much more trauma than most people can even imagine. I wanted a simple “I’m sorry.” I wanted a shoulder to cry my heart out. I just wanted to feel like someone out there cared enough to just be there and not judge me. Someone willing to spend more than five minutes waiting for me to “get over it.” Someone who will not act like they are my judge and jury and label me selfish and irresponsible. Someone who will not pretend they understand what I’m going through.

I'm still battling with my identity two and half years after my husband went home to heaven. Why do I feel like it’s me against the world? Sometimes I almost see myself... like a shadow peaking at me. Everything I once knew is different now. No relationship is the same. I've moved twice and I still don't feel like I'm "home." I don't eat the same, dress the same, live the same. I don't feel like I'm a part of this world like I did before. I'm trying to find me... define me.

Only by leaning into and building our faith and relationship with God do we stand a chance at getting through this. I know I wouldn't even be here if God wasn't holding me and protecting me. I hold on to His promise in Jeremiah 29: 10-14. God promises,

This is God’s Word on the subject: …I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me.

I don’t have all the answers. I’m doing the best I can every day to take that next breath, or step. I’ve learned God is faithful. He is teaching me to declare His promises out loud. He encourages me to picture my future and believe it is possible.

If you’re struggling with your identity, I invite you to join me in this prayer.

So then, I must cling in faith to all I know to be true. For I have a magnificent King-Priest, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who rose into the heavenly realm for me, and now sympathizes with me in my frailty. He understands humanity, for as a man, my magnificent King-Priest was tempted in every way just as I am, and conquered sin. So now I draw near freely and boldly where grace is enthroned, to receive mercy’s kiss and discover the grace I urgently need to strengthen me in my time of weakness.

Hebrews 4: 14-16

Father, I will decree Your promises and stand in expectant hope as You reach down and heal my broken heart. My heart is purged of apathy, defeat, failure, shame and hope deferred. The worst situations and bleakest circumstances are no match for King Jesus. The sound of YAH in my lungs is the sound of intercession and personal revival. It's the deep, pent-up cry of God’s beloved seeing Him face to face. Deep heart change is mine as stones become flesh and bones come back to life. I worship my victorious King making Himself known to His beloved. The King is here. The fresh cry is the sound of life replacing emptiness and unending sorrow. Morning is here. Mourning is done. I feel the shift. Father, You make me new. You bring new life to spring up within me and bloom with promise. My future unfolds with joy and purpose, as I fulfill the plans You place before me to use my gifts and graces to serve You and glorify You. Thank You for surrounding me with fellow widows and Spirit-filled believers I can trust and count on in good times and bad. Thank You for Your faithfulness. In Jesus’ name. Amen.