After my husband died, I wondered, how can I trust God day by day? Over time, I learned to trust God with my finances, and that took years. However, that realization helped me to trust God with my ability to tithe. More than that, I let go of my husband’s “need” for bigger and better toys.
Over the years, I trusted God with family issues. Most of us may stop talking with a family member at one time or avoid wanting to be with them, for whatever reason. This trust that He would make things right took more years.
But life without Marty? Is trust even possible? Is there enough time for whatever His plans are for me? Can I trust God day by day?
My God is big. I’ve taken my pastor’s words from over a decade ago to heart: “I can’t, but He can. “Like the serenity prayer the words remind me, I’m just a human being.
If your life is anything like mine in widowhood, it’s on a haphazard path. Then I remind myself to trust in God instead of the world is a better way to proceed.
With so many God winks in the last 5 years, I still often doubt God gives any thought to me and the pain, the sorrow, the yearning for what was with my husband. But still, I trust Him.
I’ve had so many God winks I’d have to look through my journaling to get them all. What comes to mind are the soothing soul ones.
Most of, if not all of these God winks speak loudly to me to trust God day by day.
One of my husband’s favorite things to do when we were driving, as we saw a turtle crossing the road, he would pull over to the side, put the car in park, and get out to pick up the turtle and place him in a safe place. A few months after he died, as I parked in our local Costco, I noticed a sticker on the car’s rear window next to me. It proclaimed, “We brake for turtles.”
A few months later, I remember another God wink just after taking his Jeep in for service. If my memory is correct, I didn’t have the radio on to and from the local dealer. I totally recall stopping in a CVS pharmacy on the trip home. After I put my bags on the passenger seat, put my seat belt on, I turned the radio on. I never changed his radio stations but instead left whatever station he was playing last.
I was in tears, happy tears. I know it was Marty talking to me through the Holy Spirit.
The most bring me to my knees lyrics, the kind that say, “Trust God,” were at the ending of the song:
So don’t go running to the mountains, my love,
Because you know that I won’t be there,
Ooh, don’t go running to the hillsides, my love
Just lift your head up and say a prayer,
In heaven.
Oh my goodness, there are so many of those serendipitous events, coincidences. Yet, because they are all so personal – either Marty related, or mom or dad told – I believe they are always heaven sent.
Unbelievably, I am coming up on 4 years of widowhood. Where are you?
Early on, I found some valuable widow/widower groups. I particularly remember one luncheon and am now thinking about how far out on the unexpected timeline I’m on. Vividly I can hear a woman’s voice in my head, for where I am and how I feel lately.
She put a date on the pain I am having now. Something today reminds me, this is a long path, long and crooked.
Most of us were sitting or standing and chatting. Most people in the group knew the woman who was looking for an open seat. In my mind’s eye, I see her stopping to say hello to people at my table. As she kept looking for a chair, she welled up in tears, saying, “I thought this was going to be better 4 years out. But this morning, I just don’t know what happened to make me cry all over again.”
This is where I am now—almost 4 years without the love of my life.
I did start dating after 2 years. It was a God wink that prompted me in that direction. I know God knows the deepest desires of my heart, and I can trust Him to be pulling up his sleeves and bringing them to me. In time.
I still wait for the door knob to turn, so I know he
Is home.
Ann, that’s beautiful. For me, just last month when I decided to move, my chime on the entrance door, which I would often hear in these last almost four years, stopped. I like to think Marty knows what I am doing and is happy now.