My hope had disappeared overnight. After my loves passing I struggled to find hope, any hope. My 20something years of Christendom appeared a little foggy and distant. I couldn’t see tomorrow, I could hardly see today. What seemed incomprehensible and unsurpassable, the circumstances of it all darkened my soul. I knew one thing and one thing only – I needed help!
I am a little stoic, not always finding it easy to reach out. I have often been on the other side, the one offering counsel and providing the support, I didn’t like the reversal. So desperate I sent out a text to a few friends, literally “SOS, I can’t do this”. They appeared in moments. God’s hands and feet performing the actions that I could not. God was loving me.
My next reach was for professional help. I recommend it highly. My doctor acted quickly to arrange family counselling. We needed it, I didn’t know what to do, how to lead us, and I had an overwhelming sense that I was going to mess us all up. The counsellor was gentle, reassuring and more practical than I could have hoped. He was able to speak the words of God I couldn’t find. God was loving me.
I accumulated many books, but at that stage found it hard to read, or to concentrate on anything. Sometimes I think new widows shouldn’t be allowed to drive or operate heavy machinery! So I reached for an old favourite, because I knew the message already. I re read “The Shack” (William P. Young, 2007). Skipping the tragic bits, I had my own, I scoured for hope and I found some. “I am with you and I’m not lost… you are not lost.” Although I felt like it was actually the end of my world, it wasn’t, I was found, found within Gods fold. God was loving me.
The greatest thing my husband has left me is his unswerving knowledge that “God Loves first”. Before, during and after my tragedy, God was always loving me. He loves me first.
“ We love Him, because He first loved us.” 1 John 4:19