Widow Warriors

The word “widow” is all about negatives. To qualify, a woman has to lose her husband to death. She becomes half of the whole that marriage had been for her. Her marriage label is withdrawn, and she embarks on a journey characterized by alone-time.Websters widow 2

Wives are into togetherness. They understand partnership and burden-sharing. My Mom’s generation used to say, “When you get married, you double the joys and cut the sorrows in half.” Marriage is a joint venture in which one person can bounce ideas off the other, get a second opinion before making a decision, and balance a singular point of view with the opposite approach. Scripture underscores the reality of all this affiliation in Ecclesiastes 4:9-10. “Two are better than one… for if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow; but woe to him that is alone when he falls, for he has not another to help him up. Again, if two lie together, then they have heat, but how can one be warm alone?”

When widowhood arrives, the twosome is pulled apart. She falls, maybe just emotionally, and wonders how she’ll get up or even if she will. One of Webster’s definitions for a widow is “a woman deprived of something greatly loved or needed.” Such a definition evokes raw emotions for me, because like it or not, that’s my life.

But as I move deeper into widowhood, I know I’m not alone. First and foremost I have my Heavenly Father who promises to step in for Nate as God the Husband (Isaiah 54:5). He’s already fulfilled that promise on several occasions.

I also have my fabulous, attentive children and children-in-law, who go above and beyond for me, day to day. I have my fantastic sister and her husband who notice and then respond to my needs in ever-creative ways, ministering kindness (and gifts!) again and again.

Although I used to live with my own lawyer, now I have my talented brother going to bat for me in handling Nate’s law practice and managing his personal financial affairs, no small task for my husband, who was deficient in filing skills! He signs his notes, “Your brother and lawyer.”

I have scores of people backing me up with prayer on my behalf, some every single day.

And if all that isn’t enough, I have my Widow Warriors List. On this list are 14 women who have gone ahead of me into this foreign land, a place to which none of us wanted to travel. Each of these ladies has pointedly told me, “I’m here for you. Call me. Here’s my number. Email me. Here’s my @ address. If you have questions, ask me. Nothing is off limits. I’ll check in with you from time to time,” which they have. And their most meaningful comment: “I know what you’re going through.”

One widow friend has been energized and organized by God to set up a valuable web site for those of us in the widow club: www.WidowConnection.com She works tirelessly for all of us and says, “We’re available even during your darkest night when everyone else is sleeping and you can’t.”

How blessed I am! I feel like someone looking out the window at a wild blizzard, knowing I have to head outdoors but being told, “Take your coat off. We went out there on your behalf, so you can stay in. Come over by the fire and get warm.”

Webster has one additional definition of a widow: “a short line ending a paragraph and appearing at the top or bottom of a printed page.” To me that indicates something came before and something new is coming after, which is the truth of my situation. Life as we know it has ended for Nate, but for me, the half that remains, something new is coming.

“The good deeds of some people are obvious. And the good deeds done in secret will someday come to light. Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you. For you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.” (1 Timothy 5:25, James 1:27, 1 Corinthians 15:58b)

Thank you!

Emotional Winter

Nate and I always loved summer best. Our birthdays are both in August, which established summertime as party time when we were children. As kids we also spent hundreds of hours every summer in the water, delighting in time at a beach or pool. Once we had children of our own, there was no better vacation destination than a beach. What else is so much fun for all ages and stages? Summer also let us keep our windows open for weeks at a time and eat dinners outdoors where clean-up was a breeze. The summer season meant road trips, long evening walks and the absence of a school-schedule-dictatorship. Summer was our favorite.

Even so, I’d never dispute the loveliness of spring or majesty of autumn. But here I am in that fourth season, bleak wintertime. A Michigan blizzard is clawing at my windows, and the car is buried in snow. Our driveway needs shoveling again, and incredibly tall trees are bending perilously, giving in to nature’s forceful winds. In addition to all this, my heart and emotions are in a winter of their own.

I’ve always wanted to do whatever I could to keep winter at bay for as long as possible, mostly because it’s the opposite of summer. But every season has it glories. God proved that to me today. Jack needed a walk, so we struck out for the lake, despite the wild weather.

Our first glimpse of the beach was striking, despite tasting sand mixed with flying snow. Waves roared in unison with swaying pines on the bluff, and the dune, with its swirl of sand mixed with snow, looked like a giant bowl of fudge ripple ice cream. Suddenly I forgot all about summer, shouting over the wind’s racket about the splendor of winter. Jack wondered if I was in distress, but the view was so exhilarating, it just spilled out in words. God is right. Every season has its beauty.

That’s true about life, too, and even about death. When Nate died, the process of letting him go was much like an icy winter day. Our emotions were dark and stormy with sadness, and when he died, he became cold and lifeless. Yet the best spring of his existence came immediately on the heels of that wintry cold as he stepped into the warmth of paradise.

Every season has its advantages and disadvantages. Personally, I’ve got one foot in life’s autumn and the other on the edge of winter. How this next season of aging goes is up to God. Only he knows when my eternal spring will begin. I may live so long that looking back at 65 will seem like summertime, but I hope not.

Nate is blessed, because he will never have to experience the negatives of life’s winter season. He died in his autumn. If I have to travel a long time in winter, I want to have eyes that accurately take in the view. Just as today’s wintertime beach amazed me with its beauty, so there will be good things about life’s winter season, too. Although a fresh crop of troubles will most assuredly accompany it, Scripture tells me God is “a very present help in trouble” …. not just present, but very present, so even that can’t be all bad.

I’m thankful for the 64 summers I’ve experienced, as well as the emotional summers of life. I’m also grateful for the other seasons, and that includes barren winters. And, contrary to nature’s winters which don’t produce crops at all, our emotional winters often yield the finest harvests of our lives.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46:1)
”As long as the earth remains, there will be planting and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night.” (Genesis 8:22)

The Pink Notebook

From the day we learned of Nate’s pancreatic cancer, I’ve kept a small pink book near me. I taped four makeshift tabs to the edges of four pages, dividing the book into sections marked VERSES, GIFTS, EMAILS and CHARITIES. As notes and cards began arriving in our mailbox, I wanted to keep track.

Many of the cards, for example, contained Scripture VERSES. People had chosen a specific card to send, with specific verses, and as our days picked up speed, I wanted to go back and study each passage, anxious to receive whatever message the Lord wanted us to have.

Because of the astounding, loving response of so many people, I found it impossible to keep up. After several pages of writing references next to names, I had to let go of the project for later. I’m quickly approaching “later” and am eagerly looking forward to going through that process in the new year. Although Nate isn’t here to share in the comfort and benefit of this task, I know it will be a blessing anyway.

As for the EMAIL section of the book, my plan was to pluck certain sentences from inbox messages to save, the ones that seemed to pop from the screen with power. Over and over again people would write words of rich wisdom I didn’t want to forget. My desire was to cut and paste these electronic gems, then print them out for taping on the pages in my pink book. After reading emails aloud to Nate each evening while he listened from his prone position on the bed, I asked our younger girls to print them all out, one by one, so I could re-read everything and highlight the good stuff.

When they finished, they handed me 58 pages of email messages. We were only one week into Nate’s illness, and I could see my project was going to remain undone. I still plan to get to it during the cold, quiet days of January and February. It even crossed my mind I could make a day-to-day flip calendar with one or two of these powerful sentences on each small page. The counsel that came to us is priceless, and I want to preserve it for myself and others.

The GIFTS section of the pink book was for recording everything given to us during those difficult days of escalating cancer. I wanted to send thank you notes but knew as the over-full, exhausting days raced past, it wouldn’t get done any time soon. Today I counted the gift items written on these pages, things like flowers, meals, books, CDs, checks, gift cards, stamps, stationary, bath products and creams, fruit baskets, vitamins and cash. Altogether there are 203 things written down. I stand amazed. I’m chipping away at thank you notes, and each one is a joy to write.

The CHARITIES section has the names of people who generously gave to The Orchard, Moody Church and Pacific Garden Mission in Nate’s honor. Again and again I’ve been flabbergasted by the big hearts of so many, giving and giving, again and again.

I’ve now started a fifth section that will not fit into the pink book at all. I’m writing down specific incidents people have shared in writing about Nate, quite a few of them new to the kids and me. Many have taken time to record remembrances of him that I want to pass along to the next generation and the one after that. They need to know what “good stock” they come from, even if they arrive into our family down the road without any chance to meet their grandfather/great grandfather.

Once all the thank yous are sent and verses recorded, my project in 2010 is going to be systematic prayer for each person/family that is written in the pink book, whether they are a signature on a card, the giver of a gift, the author of an email or the sender of any greeting. I figure one day of focused prayer per name/family will yield benefits to pray-er and prayed-for alike, and I’m excited to get started.

For this most precious group of friends, family members and strangers, I will be forever grateful, bonded to them in a special way. They walked through the darkest time of our lives with us, and even when they didn’t know exactly what to do or say, they took a stab at it anyway, unwilling to do nothing. For their love, courage and labor, I am thankful.

“The generous will prosper. Those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed.” (Proverbs 11:25)