Church Alone

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I was tempted to do “Bedside Baptist” this morning or maybe “Naturch” outdoors. It would be my first time going to church alone, and it seemed like too much too soon. I thought about all my sermon CDs, and it was tempting to have church in my ‘jammies with coffee in hand. That sounded better than venturing out on a sub-freezing morning to an awkward situation at a relatively new church where I knew no one.

Standing with my mug in the living room trying to make up my mind, I noticed a red wooden cut-out that said, “Merry Christmas” in loopy cursive letters. The girls had opened several boxes of decorations last weekend, but nothing had come out of the boxes during the week. I wasn’t sure which decorations would fit at the cottage where we’ve never decorated before, but one thing I knew for sure: this Christmas wouldn’t be “merry”. I picked up the sign and carried it to the basement, burying it in another box.

At that point I decided church might be a good idea. Besides, I needed a positive answer if any of the kids asked, “How was church this morning?” What’s more, it’s the Christmas season, an important time to focus on Christ’s miraculous coming as our Savior.

As I was getting ready, I tried to remember the last time I’d been to church alone. The answer was, never. This would be a first. Suddenly, a great idea came to mind: take Jack. Dogs aren’t allowed in church, but he could be a car-pal and ride both directions with me.snowy Jack 2

I was a few minutes late to the service, and every aisle seat was taken. So I walked to the “gathering room” at the back of the sanctuary to listen to the service over speakers and watch everything through a plate glass window. One other lady was there, too, and we worshiped together from the comfort and safety of plush red couches.

Part of the service was communion. After an expository sermon about the birth of Jesus, it was fitting we share communion and a discussion about his death. After all, his death for all of our sins was the main reason he was born in the first place. Birth and death.

At our house we’ve been focused on birth and death, too, the birth of three new babies in the near future and the death of their grandfather. Of course our birth and death experiences are nothing like those of Jesus for quite a few reasons, paramount of which is that in his case, death couldn’t hold him. Against all odds, he came back to life three days later.

There is a link, though, between Nate and Jesus and their deaths. Because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, Nate was able to walk into heaven a month ago, a privilege unavailable to him without Christ’s atoning work. Jesus had forgiven Nate of all sin and covered him with his own perfection, which then made heaven possible.

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These were the thoughts bouncing around in my head during today’s church service, amazing connections I would have missed, had I opted to stay home. In the car on the way back, I told Jack all about it.

“Who dares accuse us, whom God has chosen for his own? No one—for God himself has given us right standing with himself. Who then will condemn us? No one—for Christ Jesus died for us and was raised to life for us, and he is sitting in the place of honor at God’s right hand, pleading for us. If God is for us, who can ever be against us?” (Romans 8:33-34, 31b)

The Truth about Marriage

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It happened at a bridal shower a decade back. The woman sharing a devotional time thought the bride would benefit from tidbits of wisdom given by long-married women. She’d prepared her talk by asking a dozen married friends to give one sentence of advice to the guest of honor.

When she asked me for my thought, Nate and I were going through a rough patch. I remember saying, “Tell her marriage is life’s great crucible.” She laughed, thinking I was joking, but I wasn’t.

During the bridal shower, she shared the statements about marriage gleaned from the “older women:”

  • “Remember to laugh at yourself.”
  • “Read the Bible and pray together.”
  • “Never criticize your husband in public.”

These were excellent nuggets of wisdom, proven true over years of time. When my crucible statement was shared, the bride laughed, along with everyone else. I laughed, too, not wanting guests to know it originated with me. But even today, from my vantage point as a new widow, I don’t think I’d withdraw my statement.

We’ve all heard preachers say, “God isn’t as interested in our happiness as in our growth.” Scripture backs that up. We also know our greatest spiritual growth occurs during times of trouble. When life is a party, we don’t need help; when we’re crying, we turn to God.

What better way for him to ensure we stay close than to put stressful circumstances into our marriages? I’m not talking about the honeymoon or the newlywed stage, although some couples find they’re in a crucible immediately. But even those who’ve had a good launch come to tough stuff eventually.

I think God had our personal growth in mind when he invented marriage. Two people, usually opposites, come together with a desire to make each other their number one priority, not just for a while but for life. It’s an impossible goal, because with the first argument, priorities wobble.

So, God designs custom-made tests for each couple to coax them into pulling him into the mix. Some are like pop quizzes, short, with easy solutions:

  • “Can’t you put your dirty clothes in the hamper?”
  • “Why don’t you call, if you’ll be late?”
  • “You forgot to write down that check amount!”
  • “Are you ever on time?”

These are irritants, not crucibles. Over time, we learn the benefits of compromising. If we love our partners, we won’t “go to the wall” over these things.

But some God-designed tests truly are crucibles:

  • poverty
  • infertility
  • a retarded child
  • in-law troubles
  • job loss
  • an affair
  • bankruptcy
  • disease
  • a stillborn baby.

Statistics prove that when excruciating tests come, marriage casualties occur as well. So how can a relationship survive if God allows such pain? The only way is to square off with our spouses and say, “We won’t let this pull us apart. Let’s figure out how to pull together instead and pass this test.” Usually the answer involves God.

My husband is gone now, and I’ve been quick to look back and say, “I sure wish I’d done that differently,” or “I definitely failed my test there.” For me, time’s up. Nate and I will be given no more opportunities to pass marriage tests. For other people there are still chances.

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Scripture says the way to succeed at this, right in the middle of the stress, is to ask, “What can I do for you, dear, right now? What would mean the most?” We don’t readily set aside our own suffering to ask those questions, and it isn’t possible without God’s strength. But if we do it, God brings us through the crucibles in tact and stronger because of them. There are other rewards, too: harmony, joy, increased love, better sex, a heart for each other and yes, periods of full-on happiness.

But just like when we watch an airplane approach the runway, we see the lights of the next one in the distance. Husbands and wives need to know that more challenges are on the way. With God as our tutor, the Bible as our study guide and a desire to pass every test, high-quality, long marriages will be the reward.

“Be of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves. Do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.” (Philippians 2:2-4)

What’s missing?

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So far, I’ve had seventeen years as a child, four years as a college student, three years as a working single, forty years as a married woman and one month as a widow. The lion’s share of my life has been spent thinking like a wife, and I know with certainty one month isn’t long enough to think single again.

In answering people’s questions, I’m still using “we” instead of “I”, even though the other half of my “we” is gone. Saying “I” reminds me of a line from an old song, “One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do.” Back when I was single, I didn’t feel lonely at all, but having been a couple for so long, suddenly I feel it.

Today I sent an anniversary card to some dear friends. Despite our anniversary coming and going with only half of us here, it wasn’t difficult to celebrate with another couple still in tact. The hard part came when I signed the card. The words, “Love, Margaret and Nate” rolled right out of my pen before I could stop them. It’s hard to remember to sign from just me.

But the worst adjustment is learning to talk about Nate in the past tense. I catch myself saying, “Nate loves holiday ties,” then needing to correct myself. “Nate loved holiday ties.” It’s almost not worth saying at all.

Other things must change, too. When my cousin Calvin was here at the time of the funeral, he gently reminded me that the categories of our marriage Nate used to handle will now have to be handled by me. For instance, Nate always made the coffee, put salt in the softener, arranged the vacations and handled insurance policies. My cousin told me, “If you can’t do what Nate used to do, ask someone to help you, so those things aren’t left undone. But you can do a lot of it yourself.” The problem comes in even noticing what needs doing when you haven’t done those things for forty years.

While Calvin was here, we left the house for several hours and returned to find seven big candles still burning on the mantle. Nate would never have stepped out the door without first blowing them out, but I didn’t even notice.

Calvin also said, “I know Nate made sure the house was locked up each night. Are you doing that?”

It hadn’t occurred to me. Actually, the house hadn’t been locked for two months. My cousin was right. I had to wonder what else was undone because of Nate’s absence. I remembered back to Thanksgiving and realized I’d invited all the same people as always but neglected to give anyone an arrival time. Nate had always done that with phone calls, touching base with each one ahead of time. Our guests ended up calling and texting me that morning asking, “What time is dinner?”

The day after Thanksgiving it occurred to me we hadn’t talked to the far-away relatives we usually call on each holiday, and of course the reason was that Nate always did the phoning. I might take a turn on each call, but he was the one who remembered to initiate them.

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Nate also was my news informant. He read four newspapers every day: The Chicago Tribune, The Daily Herald, The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times. He gave me the condensed version, wanting to talk current events. Since Nate’s death, I’ve been woefully uninformed. We don’t have television at the cottage and can’t get a clear radio signal, so I haven’t seen or heard a newscast in weeks. This was never a problem, with Nate keeping me up to date.

These are the little surprises of widowhood. Piled one on top of another, they make for a sad day. Solved one at a time, they bring hope.

“For the Lord grants wisdom! He grants a treasure of common sense to the honest. For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will fill you with joy. Wise choices will watch over you. Understanding will keep you safe.” (Proverbs 2:6,7,10-11)