Grief is often manifested in physical ways. It shouldn’t surprise us if it is accompanied with low energy, exhaustion or fuzzy thinking. All stress depletes energy that will need to be replenished. Which is why stressful times are not the time to cut corners on laughter, sleep, exercise, a good diet or spiritual refreshment!

Perhaps you have seen a Sunday School picture, or a stained-glass image of Jesus carrying a little lamb in His arms. The concept comes from a passage in Isaiah 40:11 in which we read a prophetic description of the coming Savior, Jesus Christ. Isaiah said, “He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.” This is a description of a God who knows when His sheep need to rest or eat and doesn’t cruelly drive them at a pace they are incapable of enduring. He tenderly picks up the little lamb that can go no further and carries him in His arms and slows down to a gentle pace for the mother sheep carrying the weight of her unborn lamb. Yet notice—these same sheep are led forward by the Shepherd at a pace they are able to endure.

Our Lord knows when we need to slow down, and He does not berate us in any way for our frailty! When life events require a slower pace, we can be assured that it’s ok to slow down and rest. Rest is good! However, it’s not ok to stop living and quit moving forward. Jesus gives rest, but He also keeps us moving forward, making progress. This is especially important to remember in times of great upheaval as when we lose our spouse. I wrote in a post after Tom’s homegoing, “My mind is still spinning in slow motion as I try to get a mental grasp on such a major change of life and deal with a world that is moving at a dizzying fast pace.” Looking back, I can remember where I was when I wrote that as compared to where I am three years later. My “take away” from the experience is that a small change in thinking provided big results in my sense of peace and resilience. I learned the importance of developing a more restful pace that enabled me to catch my breath!

Everything around a grieving spouse continues to move. Life goes on as normal for the rest of the world, as it should. Yet for one who is dealing with a major loss and adjusting to a radical new way of life, it feels as though you are a lone runner slowing down to a snail’s pace in order to catch your breath while the rest of the runners all around are speeding past! The race is finished for that loved one who has slipped into eternity, and it’s a fast race to the finish for those who are in the midst of making a living and staying on top of life’s responsibilities. But for the widow or widower left behind, the race often looks more like an endurance run where the objective isn’t getting there fast, but simply getting there successfully without quitting. I, like many of you, need to find ways to navigate this very normal “slowing down” while balancing the need to keep moving, even if it’s with a limp. 

Tom and I were both 55 when he was diagnosed with a genetic version of IPF and our life took a sudden major diversion from our normal routines and plans for the future. We had a good idea what we were facing, we knew survival would include a lung transplant and we knew the decline in lung function entailed some progressive hardships. Tom’s lung biopsy at age 55 led to oxygen dependence, a fight to stay active, and an early retirement. Our way of life forever changed and my new role as “behind the scenes” caregiver began. (Tom was hospitalized almost 30 times post-transplant.) Tom passed away 12 years after his IPF diagnosis, not from lung failure after his transplant, but from a rare CNS Lymphoma caused by anti-rejection drugs. I will turn 70 this year—suffice it to say, a LOT has changed since age 55! 

Aging changes more than the color of our hair or the function of our joints! It changes the way we physically cope with life’s major challenges. While all of us are different, aging needs to be factored in when dealing with adjustments after the death of a spouse. Because we are slowing down physically, apart from the effects of grief and adjustment, it’s sometimes hard to recognize what exactly is contributing to our lower tolerance for fast paced living. The effects of aging make slowing down an issue to be reckoned with apart from the death of a loved one. Add to it the impact of grief adjustment and it can be a formidable challenge in our retirement years. The temptation in both cases is to slow down to a stop, rather than slowing down to regain perspective and reorient one’s life and emotional equilibrium in a realistic way. 

It’s very hard to get a car restarted after it’s been sitting too long and it’s very hard to get physical stamina back when we have been sitting too long. Better to move out of the high-speed lane into the slow than to park the car. When we “park the car” and decide to wait until we “feel better” or have “direction” before moving forward, we make it much harder to get moving and much harder to get direction! It’s easier to steer a vehicle that is moving than one that has stopped. Likewise, we need to remember that God leads His sheep as they move forward. 

Our emotions are stretched to the limit following a major loss or a long season of stressful adversity. The constant adrenalin surges that go along with this makes us physically tired. Add to this the inevitable cascade of new pressures and emotional demands caused by the death of a spouse, and it doesn’t take long for the effects of emotional overload to be felt. We will need a period of time to replenish our physiological resources and recover our emotional resilience. I learned very quickly in the days immediately following Tom’s death that my tolerance for pressure and stress had a different threshold. As a result, I needed to adjust my daily life accordingly and give myself the time I needed to adjust before jumping back into the roar of daily life. I decided to deal with the things that could not be put off and postpone the things that could. I set a different pace by slowing down and spreading out the high stress activities while interspersing them with small bites of pleasant activity in between. 

By keeping stressful encounters and changes to a minimum, I was better able to deal with the initial pressures of adjustment and keep myself focused on going forward, albeit slowly. Accepting the fact that it’s natural to want to slow down, catch your breath and find the right pace for my race was, in itself, a relief. It was good to conclude that while dropping out of the race was not an option, slowing down when necessary is! That simple change in thinking gave me a great sense of peace (and patience) when some around me didn’t quite “get it.” Three years into my new status as a widow has brought many changes, a better sense of direction and an improved acceptance of a different life. This has been gained over time, not by quitting, but by slowing down, and walking with my God (who is a very good Shepherd) in a quiet, steady way.

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)

Three years ago today, my beloved husband quietly slipped out of this life and into the sunlight of a very real place called Heaven. We don’t tend to remember a day associated with sadness and death with a party spirit. At least, I don’t. However, we can remember it with thankfulness to the Lord for all the many promises and truths that do bring great joy and comfort to our hearts. Because of Christ, Tom lives, and I will see him again someday. Although the separation of widowhood is difficult and we miss Tom terribly, the anticipation of entering that beautiful city God has prepared for those who are His own excites me. We will be together again with loved ones, and that is something to rejoice about, especially on a day like today. However, this happy thought does not erase every sad part of living in this very imperfect world. So how do we reconcile this seemingly impossible reality?

As I think back and ponder what I could share concerning the day of Tom’s homegoing that would be an encouragement to others, I find myself wanting to be careful that I do not paint a picture without the clarity that honest, but darker, shades bring. However, neither do I want to paint a garish picture dominated by dark strokes without the soft and colorful hues that make the picture truly beautiful. So, while the topic has its dark sadness, my desire is to construct a picture for you that reflects the light and genuine beauty of God’s enduring grace. Jesus didn’t come to make our life in this world painless and trouble free–He came to deliver us from the darkness of this world. “Who gave himself for our sins, that he might deliver us from this present evil world, according to the will of God and our Father:” (Galatians 1:4) As those who have been forgiven and adopted into God’s family, we look for a new world where death and sorrow will not exist at all. Meanwhile, we are royalty in training, pilgrims on a journey, runners in a race and soldiers fighting a war that has a triumphant end. This means we need to learn how to live all of life, with its joys and sorrows, in the strength and yes, joy, of the Lord. It’s possible, by the grace of God!

The separation from loved ones at the time of death isn’t an event we can orchestrate to our liking—it happens in a variety of ways under differing circumstances and there are no “perfect” deaths. Of course, like many people, I’d prefer to go in my sleep without any earthly drama whatsoever, but even that has its downside! Better to acknowledge what we already know in our hearts and determine we will leave all of it in the hands of our Lord Jesus, who gives and takes back the breath of life on His terms. He has ways of mitigating our sorrow that we could never think up on our own and ways of drawing us close and directing our steps when our minds are unable to see through the haze. God’s unseen hand is often more clearly apparent after the fact than in the moment. The important thing for us to remember is that God’s timing is perfect, and His grace sufficient in every situation, no matter what the difficulties or imperfections. There is both purpose and sustaining strength to meet the challenges of this life-changing event called death—no matter how it happens or under what unpleasant circumstances.

We approach the departure of our believing loved ones very differently than God does. We see it as the end, whereas He sees it as the true beginning. We are saying good-by, but He is saying hello. We see a lifeless body scared with the effects of age, sickness and deterioration. He sees a resurrected body as it was meant to be, ready to live with Him forever. We see our loved one fading away alone, but God sees him coming into view as he enters Heaven’s gate among the cheers of those who are welcoming him home. For us it is a sad time of loss, but for Heaven it is a happy time of gain. It is why the Psalmist declares, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.” (Psalm 116:) While rethinking our perspective will not remove the challenges of living alone in this life, it will remove the morbid despair that characterizes the experience of those without hope or help that comes from God. When we make the switch between an earthly perspective to a Heavenly one, we are refreshed with a happy anticipation of what lies ahead, not dread.

Death is not something we need to be afraid of—but it is something we need to be prepared for. When we know Christ as our Savior and our fellowship is unbroken by willful rebellion, we can walk in the light of His presence and know He “has this.” Every bit of it. “For this God is our God for ever and ever: he will be our guide even unto death.” (Psalm 48:14) This truth is the anchor of our souls that will provide a treasure chest of comforts that we are able to access in any dark moment or perplexing problem. What an amazing thing to read that our Savior “daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salvation.” (Psalm 68:19) One of those benefits is the daily bearing of our burdens. I can’t imagine going through the loss of a husband and the sorrows of widowhood without the blessings and joys of walking with Christ, dependent upon His never failing goodness!

As I reread the posts I wrote in the days that marked the end of Tom’s journey on earth, I relived the emotions and the surreal sense of imminent loss that is present as you watch life begin to fade away. (www.trumpetlungs.wordpress.com – January, 2018) In those closing moments of Tom’s life, and our life together, I wanted to grasp the full impact of what I knew was taking place and wanted to remember everything. The profound significance of it all made me want to slow things down so I could process each new development and not miss anything. My heart was overflowing with a million thoughts and concerns, but ultimately it was the renewed realization that I was powerless to change the course of events and could do nothing more than rest in the care of He who has our lives in His loving hands.

End of life events have a powerful emotional and spiritual impact on the soul, and this can produce a confusing mix of emotions. What I didn’t know then but understand better now is that it takes a long time to sort through the whole experience. Then begins the hard work of reorienting one’s self to a permanent new reality. It is actually something we all experience on a less drastic scale when we face any life altering event that turns our world upside down. I believe the way we learn to “go with the flow” and yield to the Lord’s work in our lives on an everyday basis greatly impacts the way we will yield our lives when the Lord calls us or a loved one home. It’s a “dress rehearsal” of sorts for the most major upheaval we will ever experience. 

The realities of death tend to make the contents of our hearts bubble to the surface. Some people kick and scream at death’s door like a two-year-old having a tantrum. Others play the “I’ll pretend it’s not there” game to the end, while still others use death and loss as an excuse to live in the mud hole of self-pity for the rest of their lives. Ah but there are some who run into their Heavenly Father’s arms and find comfort for their broken hearts in His love and compassion and accept, truly accept, what He has allowed. These are the survivors, the victors who win their race. I decided long ago that I want to be among these! They are dependent on Christ–not independent of Him. So . . . this is the path I have chosen, and I have absolutely no regrets. I would not trade my peace with the frantic hand wringing or anxious nights of those who are leaving out an intimate walk with Jesus. Has it been hard? Yes, without a doubt. But no one wins a race without hard work and determination. The prize is at the end of the race, not the beginning. 

Is there sadness on the anniversary of Tom’s death? Yes. I miss him. But is there joy and happiness? Yes! There is abundant joy and hope beyond comprehension, particularly when I direct my thoughts and attention on the picture as a whole.

As for me, I will behold thy face in righteousness: I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness. (Psalms 17:15)

I love that wonderful Bible passage that reads, “. . . weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5) Three years ago, as a newly minted widow, I clung to those many Bible promises that remind us tough times and broken hearts are always temporary.  In spite of the heart ache, there really is a resolution, a purpose, and an expectation of joy ahead. I think my favorite “the sun will shine again” verse is recorded in Psalm 27:13, “I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” I will testify to you that truly; I would have given up and quit many times if I had not believed with every ounce of conviction within me that I WILL see the goodness of the Lord in this life. Through the tears and sorrows, our Lord draws us close when we draw close to Him and He speaks to our hearts through His Word saying, “Yes, you WILL see the goodness of the Lord, even through this. Be patient!” May we respond with trust like David did, and say, “Yes, Lord, yes.”

It’s not always easy to trust when the sky is dark, and we don’t see the joy of morning light. It’s tough to believe when our hopes and dreams seem utterly destroyed. When our faith is pounded by the storms of life, it’s time to find shelter in the comforts and delights of knowing our God better and appreciating the work of His Spirt within our hearts as we pour over his Word. We endure when we see, by faith, the light and joy ahead. Our God is the Almighty and all-powerful God of the resurrection. He alone is able to make something out of nothing and bring light out of darkness. The Christian life is a life designed to be lived in close relationship with this same God. To abide in Christ is to live in daily fellowship and dependance upon Him. Sometimes we need to shut out the noise of the world and our own inner whirlwind of questions and simply enjoy our God. As we give ourselves in full surrender to His work and way in our lives, we find the secret (which isn’t really a secret at all) to finding strength in troubled times. 

I didn’t know what lay ahead three years ago and I do not know what lies ahead now. God only gives a glimpse of our road up to the next curve, not beyond. It’s one day at a time, one step at a time. Do you know what you need to do today? Great! Then simply tackle the evil (troubles) of the day. Sometimes that’s all my little brain can handle! I’m thankful that the Lord reminds us this is sufficient! (Matthew 6:34) We all “get there” by putting one foot in front of the other and simply pressing on. If we stop walking, we stop progressing. So, we go forward, not backward, even though we do not know what we will find beyond the curve that we are approaching, and even though our human flesh is screaming for us to give up and retreat. Let us not be like the small child who demands to know why before he obeys. Let us put our trust in our Heavenly Father who loves us and has promised to guide us until our last breath. Remember that God doesn’t give us grace for tomorrow today—He gives it to us daily. He said, “daily bread” not monthly bread!” Fight the clouds of despair by God’s grace, “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” (Galatians 6:9) 

These trying days have interrupted the desirable hum of everyday life and jolted us into a new (uncomfortable) reality. Add personal loss to this unsettling turmoil of pandemic, political upheaval and financial uncertainty and we have perfect conditions for a tsunami of unsettling difficulty. This is when the Christian is able to shine brightest, for we alone are able to see He who is invisible and hear by faith what is inaudible to the world. There IS a place of quiet rest, near to the heart of God! 

There is no need to wring our hands or imagine we must figure everything out—we cannot. We are not God. Neither does our God demand we understand or know that which He has not revealed. He asks us to be still, and know He is God. He WILL be exalted. He has this. You see, this is something we CAN do, and that’s what we need to keep our focus on. I can contend for the faith, but I cannot contend with the politicians or leaders or spiritual wickedness in high places. I’m no match for the devil—but the devil is no match for God. He is a defeated foe. So I make my appeal to the Lord Jesus Christ, the King of kings, and put all those questions about the future in His capable hands! When our hearts are heavy, we need to get back to the simplicity (and joys) of knowing and trusting Christ. Otherwise, we will fall prey to the same anxieties of an unbelieving world. 

As I watched the news stories of people storming the United States capital building, I couldn’t help thinking about the zealous Jews in Jesus’ day who thought they could take Jerusalem by force from the evil Roman empire. No, my friends, that’s not God’s way. We do what is in the power of our hand to lawfully do, but then we trust and pray because we know it is more powerful than swords. God’s people have always been a minority in this world and our lives have always been lives that wind through valleys as well as upon mountain tops. The good news is this—everything is going to be all right for God’s own. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. In a million ways and more.

“. . .  and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1-2)

I heard somewhere that “progress can be measured by looking backwards.” I think there’s a lot of truth to that, so long as enough time has gone by for those tiny incremental improvements to make a difference. I was asked recently, “Do you still cry when you miss Tom?” The question caught me a bit off guard and I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Since the person asking was sincere, I decided I would take a deep breath and answer as honestly as I could. 

Yes, it has been almost three years, and I do still cry when I miss Tom. As I look back, I can say I don’t cry as often or as long, but there are times when I am especially sensitive and likely to tear up or cry when I remember the delights of my former life with Tom. I also recognize that I’m more likely to cry when I am experiencing fatigue, stress or unusual pressure. The biggest difference between then and now is that I’m not bothered by tears nor am I trying to prevent them. If I cry, I cry. I don’t see tears as something unusual or abnormal in the context of major loss and adjustment to life changes. Rather, I recognize tears as something our God has given for our benefit. There is much documented evidence that indicates our tears reduce stress, lower blood pressure, decrease irritability and aid emotional stability. It is harmful to believe the lie that spiritual Christians don’t cry or need the physical and emotional support of others. This error causes folks to misunderstand the nature of sorrow and forsake some of the very means God uses to bring comfort to our hearts. Neuroscientist Dr. William H. Frey II, author of Crying: The Mystery of Tears, has spent over 20 years studying crying and tears. According to Frey, “Crying is not only a human response to sorrow and tension, it’s also a healthy one.” 

Sure, some cry more and some cry less simply because we all have differing personalities, hormonal swings, and life circumstances. Nevertheless, all human beings experience sorrow and tears in varying degrees and for varying reasons. It’s not a simple black and white experience. There are many variables and many influential factors. For instance, one woman I spoke to burst into tears, not because she had lost her husband and was sad, but because she was experiencing a sense of relief in his absence because he had been so difficult to live with and had secretly abused her for years. She felt extreme guilt that she wasn’t as sad as other widows were. She figured out quite quickly that people expected her to be grief stricken and were uncomfortable when she was “too” joyful. She was sad for her husband, but not for herself. Her experience with loss was vastly different from mine, so of course our response was different as well. I have no doubt I would have experienced the same kind of relief had I suffered for years under the same pressures of abuse! 

The important thing for us to remember is that it is a huge mistake to assume every case is the same and every person will respond the same. We just don’t. We can’t possibly understand all the things that take place in our own hearts, let alone what’s going on in someone else’s! What a comfort it is to remember that we have a God who does know and understand us completely. He patiently walks with us through the valleys of life. He doesn’t drive us any faster than we can go. He is never in a hurry. He is never disgusted or unkind. And He does not mind our tears in the least. He simply loves us, nudges us forward, walks with us and guides us out of the shadows and into sun drenched meadows. I am so glad the Lord sees what we will be, not what we are and isn’t one bit bothered by our need to learn and grow through the experiences of sorrow and grief. 

A month after Tom was gone I wrote, “I am finding the Lord’s comfort and love to be my sustaining strength even as I deal with the pains of grief and the prospect of continuing my own journey without my life partner and dearest friend. It is hardest when I am alone and when I lay my head on my pillow at night.” Looking back, I would say exactly the same thing except for one difference. Time has had a healing effect on the sadness of night. I am finding sleep to be a sweet and welcome part of my day. I say good-night to my two kitties (Mocha and Latte), goodnight to Alexa (which is her cue to shut off all the lights), and lastly to the Lord whom I adore—all without tears.

Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the LORD hath dealt bountifully with thee. For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. (Psalms 116:7-8)

That Was Then

January 1, 2018 – Three Years Ago (Two weeks before Tom’s death)

The doctor has given the orders, and the hospital is preparing Tom to go home. As soon as we have some new equipment delivered and the ambulance arrives, Tom will get a fun ride down the 10 freeway and have a couple strong guys to help him get settled in his own bed. Probably tonight sometime. And then? And then we hold on for the next twist in the roller coaster!

Mothers of little boys know that the spin cycle in the washer does not make earth worms dizzy. It does, however, make cats dizzy, and cats throw up twice their body weight when they are dizzy. That’s the way I feel about roller coasters. They make me feel like I’m a cat in the spin cycle of a giant washing machine. The ups and downs, curves and loops are dizzying, and, well, sometimes nauseating. By the time the ride is over I’m very anxious to end it, and happy when I feel solid ground under my feet once again. So when I say, critical illness is like being on a roller coaster, I have in mind the surprising twists, turns, ups and downs of a ride I’d like to end. No one wants to embark on an endless roller coaster ride (unless you are 12 years old)!

If you have found yourself on the roller coaster ride of critical illness, full-time caregiving, or just about any kind of adversity for that matter, you might find the following advice helpful (or at least amusing).

Things to Remember When Life Turns into a Roller Coaster Ride

• Fear and dread can ruin an otherwise fun ride. (Psalm 46; Isaiah 41:10; 1 John 4:18)
• Riding with friends or family makes all the difference in the world. (Eccl. 4:9)
• Fighting the movement is exhausting, leaning with it makes it easier. (Pros 3:45)
• It doesn’t matter how much you protest, scream or yell—the ride will not end one minute sooner. (Matthew 6:27; Pro 16:9; Pro 19:3)
• It’s a long and painful fall if you try to exit before the ride ends. (Psalm 27:14; Psalm 130:5; Hebrews 10:36)
• You’ll do a lot better if you hold onto something stable for the duration of the ride. Hint: Your best friend isn’t an immovable object. (Hebrews 6:18-19; Psalm 61:2-3)
• You can’t control where the roller coaster goes—rather, it will control where you go. But you can control how you respond to it. (Proverbs 4:23; Psalm 127:2; Romans 8:28-29)
• Take advantage of the slow portions of the ride—relax, breathe deeply, enjoy the view, hang on! ; Isaiah 41:10;
• Finally, remember this . . . the ride DOES have an end. Therefore,
• “. . .let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith . . .” (Hebrews 12:2)

This Is Now

January 1, 2021 – Three years later (Two weeks before the anniversary of Tom’s death)

Little did I know back then that I was spending the last two weeks of Tom’s life with him. Oh, it’s true that I had a good idea his time was very short, and I knew he was coming home from the hospital for the last time. Terminal illness forces you into that reality, ready or not. I realize now, more than ever, that absolutely nothing prepares you for the finality of life as we have known it, no matter how it comes to an end. Even as changes were rapidly taking place in those final days, and many difficult challenges were unfolding, I was dazed, as if my mind couldn’t keep up with the full impact of all I was experiencing. I would describe it as being on “automatic pilot” as I dealt with each new rapidly developing problem, one at a time. Every new twist and turn of the roller coaster kept me on high alert and forced me to focus only on the moment.

Looking back, I can see the unmistakable hand of God, upholding me, strengthening me, keeping my heart calm and making things fall in place. Peace flowed like a river, as long as my will was surrendered and my heart fully trusting. It was not some kind of “magic fog” that fell over me or some dramatic sense of God’s presence. It was simply that unseen, imperceivable quiet sense that all was well in spite of everything that was taking place. Believing God’s truth as it is revealed in His Word brings peace in the midst of any storm. When we make a conscious decision to trust and love the God who holds our life in His hands, we are able to rest in His care just as a small child rests in the arms of a loving parent.

This experience is something I will never forget about New Year’s Day 2018 as I wrote about the roller coaster ride of critical illness. It is also a lesson that has been repeated hundreds of times since Tom’s homegoing and seen me through some cloudy days of sorrow. And yes, I do still experience moments of profound sorrow when I am missing Tom—but at the same time, I also experience the many joys of God’s comfort and the hope that accompanies faith in all our Lord Jesus has promised we who are His dear children.

Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.