One Year A Widow - How Death Has Changed Me

I woke up early that morning and decided to make bacon and eggs. I never woke up early on Sundays and was excited to have the extra time to cook. Without fail you and Josiah came stumbling into the kitchen rubbing tired eyes at the smell of bacon. I sat at the little kitchen table and you asked me if I knew what happened to the body after it dies. I wasn't phased by your random thoughts, but I remember thinking how morbid this conversation was to be having over breakfast.

I photographed baby dedications at church, then you and Josiah went off to go shopping while I went to the gym. You wanted me to run with you at my parents house, but it was way too hot that day and I declined. After the gym I picked up a gift and cupcakes for my Dad's birthday dinner, swung by the house and showered quickly, threw on my swimsuit and we left. We drove down 23rd street to pick up grandma. Toby Mac's Light Shine Bright was on the radio and Josiah was singing right along. You and I looked at each other in awe of him with huge smiles on our faces and I said "wow - that's our kid!"

Grandma sat in the front and you moved to the back. Even with the AC blasting you were complaining about it being too hot in the backseat. I said "yeah, and you're the one who wants to go run in this heat! You don't have to!" But your mind was already made up, and there was never any changing your mind.

Your plan was a 4 mile route that would check off more streets from your running map. You'd be back in less than 40 minutes and by that time food would be here and you could join us for dinner. You were spinning Caleb and Josiah around and making them laugh so hard. You'd set them down, they'd run around the house, then you'd pick them up and spin them over and over. I finally said "Okay, go now, get your run done!" And then I watched you walk out the front door for what would be the last time.

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Life was ripped from my grasp in an instant and death has pervaded my thoughts for 365 days. One year ago I couldn't imagine surviving. I couldn't imagine what life would look like, my life without Rob, a future without him in it. I feared that I was going to lose everything we'd worked to build. But yet I watched miracle after miracle in the weeks that followed. I experienced the presence of God in a way I never have before, and unless you've experienced tragedy, it's difficult to explain. I literally felt held. He became the air I breathed, because even breathing felt like something I couldn't do on my own. The hardest thing imaginable brought forth the sweetest fellowship with Jesus. I couldn't make myself open my bible, but I'd put worship on the computer and blast it so it could be heard through the whole house, and I'd weep. Weeping became the only worship I knew.

The night Rob died I stood in my parent's backyard and watched the sunset. It hadn't hit me until that moment that Rob was actually at the feet of Jesus, in his presence for the first time. I knew he was experiencing a glory that had no words. That moment forever marked me. As I stood there doubled over the fence, weeping harder that I ever have in all my life, Jesus whispered to me, "You aren't going to be alone."

I am stronger than I ever was before. Yet I am more gentle. I don't waste time on small matters, yet I am more patient. 

I wrote one year ago that I will ache, and I will weep, and that's still the case. Those days come, but the pain is becoming more manageable. Loss absorbs itself into me, and I have learned to live this life of duality. Joy and pain aren't mutually exclusive. Moving forward I know that greater things are ahead. God is not finished yet. And I hope that I can continue sharing my journey well past this one year mark. There will never be a moving on from my loss. There will never be a day I look back and I'm grateful that Rob died. Never. My hope lies in God using this terrible thing that's happened to bring Him glory.

Death took something from me, and I grew.

I lost love, and I learned to love deeper. 

Death saved me. It awakened me. It removed the grip of this world and tethered my heart to heaven. 

"The glory of the latter house will be greater than the glory of the former house, declares the Lord. And in this place I will give peace and prosperity." - Haggai 2:9