Attitudinal Aptitude

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Blog readers who attended Sunday school as children will remember the old chorus we used to sing (with vigorous hand motions) called “Rolled Away.”

Line two was, “Every burden of my heart rolled away.” Today I managed a roll-away that added to my burden instead. While walking Jack, I rolled my foot off a thick-soled sandal.

Several unlikely circumstances came together, the reason for most accidents. When I felt the zap of a bee sting on my toe, I leaped into the air (ok, lurched) and kicked off my flip-flop, rolling the other foot on my landing. Jack’s retractable leash also went flying and impressed him so much he froze with his eyes fixed on me. The whole picture would have made a laughable video for America’s Funniest.

Depositing Jack at home, I grabbed my list of eight errands and headed out. By the third store, my foot was throbbing, and by the fourth I was hanging onto the upholstery sample rods at Joann’s Fabric Store in an effort to stay upright. Hopping to the car on one foot, I drove home with my ankle propped against the AC vent and had a mental love affair with a bag of ice.

Tonight, after several hours in the deep freeze, the swelling is down, and the color is up. I’m arguing against Louisa’s label of “accident prone” and am fighting the inconvenience of a painful foot.

As I sat this afternoon with my propped pillow and ice bag, I was furious with myself. The high sandals were a cast-off from one of the girls, and I should have left them in the trash where I found them five years ago. Today I only wore them because they matched my skirt, so it was vanity that got me in trouble.

Now I have a chance to double my error by complaining or be a patient patient. I can either adjust my attitude and graciously accept this set-back or resist it and fill the cottage with discontent. As they say, attitude is everything.

Trying my best to think maturely but not getting too far, I was rescued by the Lord and Erika. He brought to mind this eight year old great-niece, who is great indeed, especially on attitude issues. For example, I’ve been self-conscious for years about a gold crown in my mouth, hoping some day to make it white like the other teeth. But when Erika saw it she said, “I see your princess tooth, Marni!” Attitude is everything.

Erika puts me to shame with her upbeat analysis of life. God is pleased with her in that, and he expects the same of me. The fact that my foot has served me well these many years and now is holding me back is no excuse for whining. Gratitude should always be my attitude, no matter what new burdens roll in.

And if I have trouble finding anything good about this, maybe I’ll call Erika.

“Just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him… overflowing with thankfulness.” (Colossians 2:6-7)

P.S. It wasn’t even a bee sting, just a broken bit of acorn.

Fuel for Racing

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It’s a miracle I haven’t run out of gas since Nate died. I didn’t fill my own tank for decades, because he did it for me, which meant he had to have my gas gauge on his mind every day. When it got low, he’d take it to Speedway and top it off.

Nate continued this practice even after we moved to Michigan, despite raw back pain and difficulty sitting. The loving act of filling a wife’s car with gas isn’t listed in the Bible’s love chapter (1 Corinthians 13), but its there, hiding between those verses.

Cars need gas, and I needed Nate to help me get places. In the ten months since he’s been gone, my Highlander’s gas gauge has had occasion to be dangerously close to resting on “E.” Because I’m having to relearn looking at the gauge and thinking about fuel stations, I’ve needed my heavenly Husband’s prompting. Without him, I would have sputtered to a stop on many a shoulder. Because of him, so far, so good.

Although getting used to widowhood means learning new skills and coping with the accompanying breakdowns, another way to look at it is that I’m beginning a new lap but am staying in the same race. Just like a driver who crosses the finish line without an accident, those of us who’ve lost a spouse can stay on the course if we don’t run out of fuel or crash along the way.

Scripture likens all of life to a race, and just because I’ve become a widow doesn’t mean I have to drop out. It simply requires a shift in racing strategy. My pit crew has changed, and I may have to pull over to the side now and then for additional fuel, but as a widow, I’m still in the race.

Several of my widow-friends have actually picked up the pace since their men died, tackling jobs or ministries they couldn’t have managed, had their husbands lived. They didn’t choose this race-strategy; God did. And because of that, he’s the one who fuels their efforts. Their willingness to keep going has resulted in new purpose to their days. They’ve started another lap, so to speak, around life’s race course without getting stuck on a widowhood-detour.

God’s intention for all of us is that we stay in the race all the way to the finish line. Maybe he moves us out of the fast lane, but he never relegates us to the shoulder. I picture him saying, “From your perspective you’ve hit a big speed bump, but don’t consider your life to be over.”

We widows ought never to feel purposeless because we’ve lost our husbands. Just like Nate dependably filled my car’s gas tank, the Lord will faithfully fuel our energy and give us the oomph to accept whatever new challenges he presents. We can take them or leave them; that’s up to us. But like a race car driver, I want to keep moving, stay in the race and cross the finish line… without running out of gas or having any crashes along the way.

“The Lord blessed Job in the second half of his life even more than in the beginning.” (Job 42:12)

Making the Most of It

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I think often about my marriage to Nate. Being distanced from it for nearly ten months now, my thoughts have become somewhat objective. When we’re still in a marriage, the analysis gets blurred by the importance of our own perspective. Now that it’s over for me, of course I have regrets. I’ve had to talk myself out of a host of would-of, could-of and should-of’s, which are part of the tyranny of hindsight.

Because my mate was taken earlier than expected, I’m nervous I didn’t appreciate Nate in full measure. So what can be done about it? For me, nothing. My opportunities to be a good wife to Nate have ended. For those who are still married, however, there is time.

Quite a few blog readers have commented that some of the posts have made them rush to hug their husbands or compliment them. This is thrilling to me! These folks won’t suffer regret. I believe God will honor their efforts with exponentially positive results, and they’ll never be sorry they made the effort.

Other readers have asked, “In your life without Nate, what have you learned so far?” The big answer is that God’s promise in Isaiah 54:5 is an anchor that holds. He’s told me he’ll be my husband and has followed through perfectly.

Secondly, I’ve learned a great deal about marriage since having had mine removed. Every husband and wife would do well to think about what life would be like if their spouse disappeared. It might make for interesting restaurant conversation. How would life change? If there were no more opportunities to say anything or do anything for their partner, how would each feel about what’s been said and done so far?

All of us are good at taking people for granted. We say, “Putting him on a pedestal isn’t necessary. He’s not worthy of that.”  Instead, we wives are persistent about trying to modify our men. “Yes, they’re good guys, but they can always use a few more suggestions.” Sadly, that comes across as criticism, and none of us like that, especially at home.

A husband and wife ought to be each other’s #1 fan, surrendering nit-picking in favor of cheerleading. I didn’t always get this right, so I’m lumping myself in with everyone else. The only difference is that I can’t improve, while others still can.

Every marriage has restless periods when one or the other wishes they were single. We shouldn’t allow ourselves to “stay” in that place, wandering around in past memories of singlehood or wishing for future independence. While “living” in either place, we are setting aside the marriage at hand.

My Widow Warrior pals and I would give anything to have another crack at being good wives to the men we loved who are now gone. And because of that, I’ve taken a chance in this blog, hoping to challenge those of you who are still married to make the most of it. You are blessed!

“Wives are to be women worthy of respect, not malicious talkers but temperate and trustworthy in everything.” (1 Timothy 3:11)