13 Years

 Yesterday would have been 13 years married.  It suddenly doesn't sound very long.  But then I look at pictures of those people that dated and we look so young, so different.  The years of friendship before--he was my favorite person for so long.  My first phone call, good or bad--my talk me off the ledger, help me processor, talk about nonsenser for much more than 13 years.  I miss his voice and his advice.  Our collaboration.  I can still feel his scruff on my cheek.  I'm scared to forget.

Really, the anniversary day was launched with days of high emotion prior.  We all walked into Sunday pretty raw.  But my kids made the day a priority--to spend time with me, to do things I wanted. Not because it was just my day, but because that's what Scott would have done.  So we fished and hung out and spent much of the day together.  They were cognizant of my emotions and my heart all weekend.  When theirs are jagged too, they worried about me. 

I tried hard to remember my wedding day.  To remember what I felt like that day.  To remember how he looked at me.  I remember he was so concerned that his haircut was too short.  It makes me laugh now.  It was no different than any other haircut he got for 20 years, but he wanted to look perfect. I remember it rained some that day, but not when it really mattered.  And that it cleared showing pink clouds, the color of pink in our wedding.  I remember how important it was to Scott that although seating was limited, that we invite the students we did ministry with.  One of those "kids" sent me a card this week, remembering our day.  I remember how at peace I was standing in the bridal house with my dad, waiting for my turn.  How it was all I ever wanted, to be so at peace on my wedding day, that I just couldn't wait to get down the aisle.  There were many unknowns.  But if he was the guy wasn't one of them.  

Sometimes the Enemy tells me that the way I believe Scott loved me was like a dream-not real-something I've made up.  And he'll slither in thoughts that in reality, God feels about me quite to the contrary of that love.  It will pop into my mind at the most unexpected time.  I know it isn't true.  The thoughts are so far fetched.  But when the Bible says he came to steal, kill, and destroy-I feel that.  He tries to steal my confidence and joy, he tries to kill my favorite memories and replace them with the hardest moments in vivid detail, and he attempts to destroy any semblance of hanging on that I have. 

I cannot let him.  He doesn't know everything, can't know my thoughts or my heart completely, and I refuse to let him steal from me.  Scott only loved me the way the Lord allowed him.  He only saw me as anything more than broken and sinful because God gave him insight to see what I could be, what my heart meant to do or say, and that I too was chasing the same God.  Only God could write this love story.  Only God can know the hearts of man.  Only God can love us fully.  Me fully.  Only God. 

I hang onto that.  That the hammock of safety I landed in each night that was Scott all these years, is still there in the Lord.  It was really always Him.  The hammock moves and sways with the uncertainty and chaos around me but its still the safe place to lay.  Sometimes its just a place to cry.  Sometimes all I can say is "God, you better be filling in the gaps.  You better still be here".  And He is.  Some days I see it better than others.  But what is faith if not knowing that what I believed to be true before, is still true now when I didn't get what I wanted.  "What's true in the light is still true in the dark" (Rend Collective lyrics, Weep With Me.). And it has to be, or it isn't true at all.

Overwhelming Gratitude

How do you write about things you never knew there were words for?  I know what happened...I know he's gone, I was there and I felt it.  But gosh, gone and died are terrible words to me now.  I know I have to say them-but I've had my mom make a dozen phone calls for me just I can say it a dozen less times.  

6 weeks and it's still so unbelievable.  I've said a thousand times that the last 3 weeks just went so fast-it was like watching a snowball roll down the hill and I almost yielded to the authority of it.  I couldn't stop it and it just got bigger and bigger.  

After the crowd left that Thursday and we planned the service, had the service, the burial--I expected radio silence to be waiting on the other side.  Fortunately, the Lord and you all have been so kind and have not left us. The overwhelming deliveries of gifts, plants and flowers.   I have learned so much about the incredibly creative ways to serve and love those that are hurting because of the way so many have served and loved us. 

How do I survive now?  I'm not even sure I know or have the credits to talk about it yet.  But I can tell you what makes some days bearable.   

• I'm so grateful for the continued calls and texts.  For unexpected mail and gifts-that are encouraging beyond acknowledging the sadness but push me to want to continue to fight through the hard.
• I'm grateful for the UPS store owner who walks around the countertop to hug me.
• I'm grateful for the unexpected check ins from people who you might have thought wouldn't think of you--that overshadow the void of those you thought would. I'm grateful for the inadvertent healing that has happened in some of those relationships- just knowing that they care about me. 
• I'm grateful for almost 13 years of marriage.  A marriage that I loved and didn't deserve.  The gospel doesn't promise marriage at all, let alone one in which you actually like each other.  I'm grateful for how he loved me and am reminded that he was only capable of loving an imperfect person that way because my God loves me that way.  
• I woke up on Mother's Day overwhelmingly grateful that this man allowed me to be the kind of mom that I am.  That he trusted a 25 year old brat with his 14 year old daughter.  That he didn't try to talk me out of wanting babies even though he had a kid.  That he then trusted my discernment about these 5 Peruvian kids enough to at least ask the Lord for his own discernment.  I know so many stories enveloped in fighting and resentment that I just don't have. 
• I'm grateful my kids saw that love.  That the demonstration of selfless commitment, while shorter than any of us wanted, is better than many I've seen for a lot more years!  The boys have joked they'll struggle to get married if they don't look at the girl the way Scott looked at me.  I love that!
• I'm beyond grateful that he was mine at all.  That I got to walk this out with him as his person.  This is really hard, but I wouldn't have changed my answer to him years ago if I had known it would end this way.  We're not supposed to like it here; this is not our home.  And I'm just so happy Scott doesn't have to carry the weight of the world anymore.  

Gratitude is huge because it helps me fight for perspective.  We are really sad.  Like in a way I can't really put words to.  Some days the ache is so heavy.  Sometimes it sneaks up on you.  But nothing is off limits and we talk about him A LOT!   Good things, funny things, things we've learned, how he would have responded.  We talk about it all.  And we find ourselves recognizing that really what he gave us was a picture in skin of how God feels about us, what God would say.  He told me in a hard moment towards the end when talking about our kids "I've given them everything they need".  It annoyed me at the time honestly.  How can that be?  But the reality is, Scott was never going to tell them what job to take or who to marry.  He wasn't going to tell them what their identity is.  He was leading them to the One who made them and would teach them their identity--which way to go, how to hear Him, pointing to His Word and those promises.  He did give them what they would need.  

So this is how we're walking right now.  If you bump into one of us, you may literally bump into some rough feelings.  They're on our sleeves a lot of days. But not forgetting us, not being silent, is the best you can do.  And if you know someone else grieving, my encouragement is to reach out when you think of them.  We're not looking for words of wisdom or solutions--you don't have them.  But knowing you're thinking of someone when everyone has returned to their own lives is huge.  Send the text.  Make the call.  I'll tell you, I do it a lot more because I've experienced the weight of care.  The Bible says "Love covers a multitude of sins".  Thank God!