it is something that every one of us will, at some time, face.
I am saddened this night because someone dear to my heart passed away.
I have tried to rationalize it and understand it, but death is death.
My heart is heavy for many reasons.
I know, because of my own loss, what his wife is feeling right now.
She is devastated and reeling from the blow that she is now alone.
I don’t completely understand what his daughters are going through because God has performed miracle after miracle upon my own father, but my imagination runs wild.
I have, on many occasions, although it tears me into pieces, told my mother that if she and Daddy couldn’t go at the same time, I would want him to go first because the thought of dealing with him without her is beyond my comprehension.
I don’t want to lose either of them, but I, we, live in the real world where people die and are buried and life either ceases with their death, or we move on.
Life is what it is, when it is, as it is.
Walking on the mountain tops or soaring above them is a wondrous thing, but in reality, we are often in the foxholes, valleys and dark places.
How we deal with these times defines us.
Do we encourage or enable?
Are we a rock or shifting sand?
These are the moments that Jesus calls us to, the times that He relies on us to uphold His people.
I am unworthy on every level imaginable, but I know, without doubt or reservation, what it feels like to lose a husband.
And I know what it feels like to be comforted by the presence of the Holy Spirit.
I am, according to what is “out there”, the minority, but I don ‘t care.
I know what I know, feel what I feel, experience what I experience, learn as I go, live as it comes and believe on the fantastic.
Life is a gamble and nobody, but nobody will leave this world alive.
The photo of my late husband included in this post was taken two weeks to the day after he was buried.
An image in my head could be discounted, but a photograph is, as the saying goes, worth a thousand words.
I too know without any doubt, what it feels like to be a widow…I was one. Sorrow fills my heart for his children also because unlike you Gina I too also know what it means to be an orphan. My mom passed away at the young age of 38 I was 14. My dad lived longer, perhaps it was his grief over my moms death that took him at 67 years of age. Yes, I was grown and had a child of my own when I found myself without either parent, heck, I even had a child of my own. Things such as these didn’t ease the sting of their deaths…I was still a little girl who wanted her momma..or daddy at times…but they could not come to me. If I had only known to hurt and pain to shortly come, I would’ve known it was to prepare me for an even bigger blow…yes one year after daddy died it happened….I lost my brother! NEVER would I have guessed or imagined I wouldn’t have my big brother to lean on through this old world. But, through it ALL I have learned to lean on HIM..My Lord and Savior..the ONLY thing that will never…ever…leave me.