A WIDOW WONDERS

               He went home to be with our Heavenly Father two years ago this coming February.  It seems like it was only yesterday.  Some days I feel like I am doing okay, but then other days are like today…

               The loneliness is debilitating.  I only accomplish anything by dent of will.  I just want to sleep or play mindless, time-wasting games.  I don’t want to go out.  I don’t want to talk to anyone.  Yet, I don’t want to be alone.  I call on my children way too often and when I do go out I still feel this endless, ceaseless, soul-numbing loneliness. 

               In the beginning I tried filling it with constant busyness.  I tried filling it with endless hours of unnecessary, mind-numbing shopping.  I went on a cruise and a non-stop sight-seeing, constant busy trip to St. Louis and New York City.  I have tried to immerse myself in reading and writing only to sit before a blank screen, only to read one paragraph over and over.  Then to end up sitting in front of my computer playing freecell,  solitaire, spider solitaire, and mahjong for hours and hours on end.

               At one point I became obsessed with a new thing called Pinterest.  I would spend up to eight hours a day on it, just surfing and finding things … things … things … not making any progress in anything.  Not accomplishing anything.  Not doing … anything. 

               It has been nearly two years and I still feel … … … LOST!

               Lord, in spite of all You have been to me, done for me, seen me through, I still feel … alone … lost … sad … empty.  I have finally begun to write.  I find solace and promise in that.  But I do it for You.  Because I love You.  Because I adore You.  Because I want to please You.  I have joy because of You … in You … from You.

               BUT I feel guilty because I am Your daughter and I should be moving ahead, getting on with my life and I feel like I am on some days.  On other days I feel terribly sad, emotional, moody.  On those days, I feel I have let You down.  My progress seems minute and I feel defeated.   I refuse to give up because I know there is the promise and possibility that I will get to share You through my writing serve You with my heart, my hands, my life, by serving others.

               Some days I wonder though, Heavenly Father, am I really going to make a difference.  Will I get to share You in Word, in deed, and in fact.  Or will I let You down with my pitiful efforts and constant setbacks.  Will I get any of Your books finished, let alone published?  Will I find a job to sustain me?  Am I capable of working a job?  Or am I too lazy, too weak, to unwilling?  Will the debilitating loneliness ever disappear?  Will the anguish ever ease?  Will the sorrow ever turn to joy?  Will I really make a difference for You or am I too lazy and self-centered to put You first? 

               It matters.  It matters to me because I love You so much and all I have done over the last, nearly two years, is make myself live and function and continue on to honor, glorify and share You.  It matters because I have to force myself to go out, to eat, to get things accomplished, to meet others, to leave my house, to continue on.  I do this for You while I wonder if it will ever change and life return to my heart, my soul, my life.  

               I honestly don’t know the answer to any of these questions.  Until I do, I will continue to do these things for You, in honor of You and Hope in You, because I know that no matter how dead and useless I feel, Your Word is my Sword and my defense and Your Word does not come back unfulfilled.  I know that You do have a plan and a future for me, a future of promise and for good.  So for now, I hold on to those promises and am thankful for another day with You in it, because YOU are my God, my Hope, my Future, and my Life.  I trust and believe in You and I give You my life to You to use for Your honor, glory, and Will.  I thank You for Your blessings, promises, and most of all Your Son. Amen.

Until next time, my Friends, follow your dreams

In the Mists of My Mind ~ Part 1 of 3

     After my husband passed away last year everyone thought I would be doing my best work, writing at my very best.  This made me think I should be writing at my very best too.  To my chagrin, not only could I not write a word, I stopped reading altogether; and I am an avid reader.  I would sit in front of the computer, blank screen, and think to myself, "THINK.  Just think.  Put one word down.  Just one."

     Nothing.  Nada.  Not one letter.  Not one syllable.  Not one word.  Nothing.  More surprising, I didn't feel upset or frustrated  about it.  I didn't care.  It did not phase me at all.

     What I did do was turn on my solitaire and play ... for hours ... and hours ... and hours.  I had found Mahjong several months before my husband passed.  I played it.  For hours ... and hours ... and hours, also. 

     A dear friend introduced me to Pinterest.  I very quickly became obsessed with it too.    I would get on Pinterest and look at everything. I started with tea cups and tea pots, animals, houses, nature and styles.  Then I began looking at clothes, doors, windows, house decorating, outside décor, gardening, flowers, anything and everything I could find, I looked at.

     When I wasn't on the computer, wasting time playing and Pinteresting (did I just make up a new word?) I was trying to figure out how to fix every problem with our home --- painting, reflooring, gardening (a new hobby for me), trying to figure out who I was without my husband, figuring out what the next step was in my life.  Our children were basically grown and I needed them more than they needed me.  I worry I wasn't there for them, even though they insist they were fine.  For the first time, I didn't know how to be there for them because I was a ... what? ... not a mess ... more like an automatum … there physically but useless for anything.

     I made myself get up and do the things I thought needed done; basically, I functioned.  Although at the time, I didn't see it that way.  I gave myself brownie points on how well I was doing.  From the moment I found my husband in our bedroom, until sometime this past Spring, I kept telling my children and friends how well I was doing.  I would say, "Didn't I handle that well?"

 

~ To be continued ~