Beyond Loss: A Healing Journey
It has been 20 years since you left. My mind's eye blinks, and it feels like just a minute ago. In a flash, I can roll over and see you there. The stillness, both in you and in the air, stole my breath and any peace I had. You left so quickly and suddenly. The impact tore a hole in me and in our children. I felt myself ripped in half, thinking it was only the half of you, the part that made us one. In the coming years, I would find out it was our children too. The pain was incredibly deep; I just kept breathing.
Screaming into the heavens, "I am a double, all I've ever known was to be a wife."It wasn't long before I followed a trail of what I convinced myself was God's plan, that I wasn't left alone. The fact that you were asking about your friend just weeks before, and then, after 20 years, he walked into our lives at the funeral. All the care and concern for me and our children drew me to him. His love for God felt like a beacon, a path I could follow to find my way to wholeness.
He loved our children and our grandchildren and included them in his life. He helped raise our baby girl, and he introduced us to a ministry that was indeed a pathway for me and other family members to heal. He used to say, "It's happening, so it must be God's will." My time with him was not wasted. I learned that Jesus is the same yesterday and forever, and He answers prayer.
Today, on this anniversary of your passing, memories flooded my Facebook. In reading them, it is clear that my children and many others were thankful for the role he played in our lives in your absence.
It was good until it wasn't. In the end, I would learn that you can't make a whole person out of two broken people. As I struggled once again, now with the loss of a second marriage, the loss of you flooded in again. My heart and soul wanted to leave, to die, to find you in a place where there was no pain. I felt like I had been hung upside down and duct-taped in a cocoon. Isolated, lost, abandoned, and fearful. For years, I struggled to understand how my life could have led me here.
One day, while writing out my prayers—or in reality, I should say my anguish—I cried out to God, saying, "I didn't ask for Wes to die or to lose everything in my divorce!" It was a quick response, the words flung through me, "But, did you die?" Stunned, I shook myself and began to write. No, on the contrary, I found out that you, God, are Infinite, and if I only had you and nothing else, I would be okay. I found a genuine place to live, where my money, my house, or my car did not define who I was. I had a vision that was leading me to hope for a future. I started to engage again in life and anticipate a future. Just as a butterfly emerges from the cocoon, I too emerged.
It was like waking up after all these years, after so much emotional turmoil I was experiencing a shift of perspective, clarity as to what was most important ready to embrace life, embrace our children, only to find that we didn't heal together. I felt like the wrong parent had died. It felt like they had resurrected walls around their hearts to not feel that pain again and to protect themselves emotionally. And most recently, I have come to feel like I abandoned them in my own pain.
In the writing of this, I am struck with the realization that my understanding of this complex mix of emotions—grief, regret, guilt, and the desire for healing and connection within the family—reflects my journey towards acceptance, understanding, and reconciliation in the face of such a significant loss of you.
Just recently, I started attending a church that began in the building of the first church I went to when I moved to the Northshore, without you. As I stood there, surrounded by familiar walls, I found myself singing those words displayed on the big screen.
was
Oh, Your mercy never fails me
All my days, I've been held in Your hands
From the moment that I wake up
Until I lay my head
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God
And all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God
I love Your voice
You have led me through the fire
And in darkest night You are close like no other
I've known You as a Father
I've known You as a Friend
And I have lived in the goodness of God, yeah
And all my life You have been faithful, oh
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God, yeah
'Cause Your goodness is running after, it's running after me
Your goodness is running after, it's running after me
With my life laid down, I'm surrendered now
I give You everything
'Cause Your goodness is running after, it's running after me, oh-oh
'Cause Your goodness is running after, it's running after me
Your goodness is running after, it's running after me
With my life laid down, I'm surrendered now
I give You everything
'Cause Your goodness is running after, it keeps running after me
And all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I'm gonna sing of the goodness of God
I'm gonna sing, I'm gonna sing
Oh, 'cause
'Cause all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I'm gonna sing of the goodness of God
Oh, I'm gonna sing of the goodness of God
We love You for that
One for all my days
"Is He? Is God good?" These questions raced through my mind, triggering a flood of memories as I stood in this familiar spot with my two baby girls. It was here that I had once moved across the lake, embarking on a new life without you. Reflecting on the journey we had taken together, from the restoration of our marriage to the growth of our love alongside our children and grandchildren, I couldn't help but ponder the goodness of God.
We had pursued your dreams together, witnessing each one come to fruition. But then you were gone, and time relentlessly marched forward, eventually guiding me to the man standing beside me in this service. Amidst the overwhelming emotions and tears welling in my eyes, I found solace in the realization that my entire life had been steeped in prayer.
Through the highs and lows, I had never wavered in my faith in God's plan for me. The memories of standing in this very building served as a reminder of the unwavering presence of divine guidance in my life. In that moment, as I stood surrounded by love and blessings, I knew with certainty that I was exactly where I was meant to be. Yes, throughout my life, God has undeniably been good to me.
Today marks 20 years. As I wake up beside my husband, I see the concern in his eyes as he watches tears stream down my face while my fingers race across my keyboard. I have found joy and peace again. I am settling into a warm and comfortable place with some of our children and grandchildren. I am confident that healing is taking place in all of our family.
Our family, which has grown from our four children to 16 grandchildren and one great-grandson, share our faith. I am confident that this shared faith in God will continue to bring us together and ultimately unite us in heaven one day.
As I reflect on the journey we have traveled together, both in life and death. I am grateful for the love and blessings that have surrounded us. I feel a renewed sense of hope for the future. Today, I am reminded that even in the midst of trials and tribulations, God's presence remains steadfast, guiding us towards healing, unity, and everlasting peace.