I. miss. my. husband.
There, I said it. It stinks to be a widow (or widower) at this time of the year, maybe more so than at any other time during the year, except for the dreaded calendar date of my husband’s death.
Everyone’s seemingly happy, hustling and bustling around, in stores where piped-in Christmas music plays lovely carols and old standards.
Last year, at this time, with the gaping wound of the loss of my husband still fresh, I walked through the stores (and life) in a bit of a trance, much like a survivor in a war zone. The carols blasting from every corner and in every building in which I entered made me feel like I was ready to jump through my own skin. It was maddening.
Only by the grace of God did I make it through. My boys and I even found some joy in the holiday season, keeping old traditions while starting a few new ones, for just us three.
But I still miss him. He was a force of nature, a man’s man, a 6’3″ lanky handsome dude. He was an outdoorsman, a wonderful provider, a Godly man who was the best, most patient, hands-on daddy that I had ever witnessed first-hand.
I ache for that physical presence, his strong hand linked in mine. My boys miss the almost-nightly wrestling matches, held in our den, where giggling and laughter filled our home.
I’ve learned how to get along without him. But it hasn’t been easy. I have to keep reminding myself that we all are on a journey–I like to call mine “unimagined”–and that everyone has trials, heartaches, and folks they miss physically in their lives. I have to keep myself immersed in God’s word and in His music.
I found out the hard way a few weeks back that I cannot venture too far ahead of God in this journey, nor let go of His hand. “Self” got in the way, I was feeling pretty good, and I depended on me and me alone. Let’s just say I tripped and skinned my knee spiritually.
Like a small child, I cried, ran to my heavenly Daddy, crawled back up in His lap, and was instantly soothed. I learned my lesson, at least this time. I won’t walk too far ahead again, and will keep within an arm’s length of God, so I can quickly grasp onto His hand if needed
As Isaiah so beautifully writes: