Storm Clouds Up Ahead

All of my thoughts lately are fixed on April 11th.  The one year anniversary is coming.  Every day it gets closer and I can see it.  The clouds are rolling in.  The sunshine is gone and in the distance, a dark, turbulent storm is brewing and headed straight for me.  Every day I try hard to remember what we were doing at this time last year.  I wonder if it was the last time we did this or saw that together.  Which day was the last that we held hands and walked on the beach?  When was the last time we ate at our favorite pizzeria on the bay?  In my mind, I can see his face, thinner, sullen, the occasional smile more faint, those adorable eyes that disappeared when he laughed now troubled and sad.  Even though nights were hard for him, there was always the hope of a new day.  We were both praying each day would be the day he would feel better.  As difficult as these days were, no matter how he was feeling, he still got up and came straight out to the back porch to kiss me before pouring his coffee and sitting down beside me.  Right now I am looking back through this tunnel of time, trying to peer back into those brown eyes, searching for clues of what was to come.  I should have seen it.  Dear God, why didn’t I see it?  

About this time last year, maybe even on this exact day, we were making trips to Peña Rota, a secluded little cove, or the “rock beach” as we called it, to gather rocks for our landscaping.  This was fun, but exhausting work….walking through the sand, shoveling rocks into a trashcan until it was almost too heavy to lift, then trudging back through the sand to dump them in the back of the truck…we would do it about 15 times before we would haul the rocks back to the house then reverse the process, shoveling them into a wheelbarrow to spread out around over the bare dirt.  We both loved working outside together.  On one particular day, we had already been twice to the beach and were so tired.  We were trying to finish off one side of the house before leaving to come back to the states for a brief visit.  Our two trips to the rock beach that day had produced slightly less than we needed to complete the task.  With one small uncovered strip remaining, Jon said, “let’s go back.”  I said, “It’s fine…we can just finish it when we return in April.  No big deal.” He said, “No, we need to finish it before we leave.”  We went back and forth on this issue, but he was adamant that the task be completed, so we headed back to the beach.  Was that a sign?  Did he know he wasn’t coming back?  On that last trip to the beach, after we had gathered our rocks, I decided to walk around looking for shells and pretty rocks.  It’s one of my favorite things to do.  I walked off on my own, pausing occasionally to marvel at the view and soak in the sounds of the ocean.  In a few minutes, he was by my side, helping me look for little treasures in the sand.  We held hands as we strolled back across the sandy banks to the car.  I remember it so well.  I am straining to relive these moments, searching for clues, for answers.  Why?  So that I can feel better?  I’m not sure.  So that I have evidence to convict myself of failing him?  Sure…I think that, too. Or maybe just so that I can see his face clearly in my mind and feel his hand in mine one more time?  Yes, so much yes.

April 11th happened to fall on the Tuesday before Easter last year….Holy Week.  It would have been easy to skip church that Sunday.  Goodness knows I didn’t look or feel like being around all those people, but I needed to celebrate the resurrection more than ever.  I needed to lift my hands and praise Jesus for the completed work on the cross, for overcoming sin and death, for making the grave a barren place, an empty place housing nothing more than dry bones.  The grave is irrelevant.  Death has no power.  Can it make me feel sad, lonely, angry, afraid, distraught and discouraged?  In my humanity, yes it certainly can.  But it cannot steal my joy.  It cannot have my security.  And it cannot touch my peace.  

I now write these things to remind myself.  Truthfully I don’t feel them right now.  Remember that storm cloud up ahead?  Well, it has my full attention these days.  I am in the space of feeling the sadness, the loneliness, the anger, the fear.  We all enter that space sometimes.  We all feel the bitter winds and the pounding rain of sorrow.  When I am here, I know what I must do.  If I am to survive the torrential downpour coming in that looming cloud, I must shield myself with truth.  What is the truth?  On the mornings when I wake up in panic, with the anxiety and worry over all I need to do, the feelings of complete inadequacy and overwhelm of how I am going to provide, what is the truth?  Where do I turn? 

The truth is the same power that raised Christ Jesus from the dead now lives IN ME.  (Rom. 8:11) That resurrection power that we are celebrating in just a little over a week…..yep, that!  That victory over sin and death -it LIVES IN ME….and YOU!  I am not only God’s very own child, but He lives in me.  I am unified with Him. (I Cor. 6:17)  His Spirit does not just lead me, it transforms me.  (II Cor. 3:18) I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me.  (Phil. 4:13) I am strong and courageous because the Lord is with me and has prepared the way before me. (Josh 1:9)  He never leaves me or forsakes me.  (Deut. 31:6) He is able to do immeasurably more than all I ask or even imagine.  He supplies all my needs according to HIS glorious riches in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 4:19)  What I have in my bank account is irrelevant.  The Lord is my provider. (Matt. 6:26) He is my refuge in times of trouble. (Psalm 18:2) He is for me. (Rom. 8:31)   He is close to me.  (Ps. 34:18) He understands me. (Heb. 4:15)  He holds upholds me. (Isaiah 41:10). He restores my soul. (Ps. 23:3)

I confess that this is not always the first place I go when I am unsettled.  I am a stubborn Texas girl and sometimes it takes days of struggling before I land in this place.  Sometimes I make all the wrong choices first….like last night when I destroyed my two days of keto by consuming an entire bag of cheese puffs and a bottle of wine.  I am human after all.  But eventually, and hopefully, more often than not, I do come back to the truth.

I had a vision the other day.  Let me preface it by saying that after Jon died I fully expected to see him everywhere, to hear his voice often, to dream about him regularly.  I WANTED that.  Instead, I was disappointed that the moments I have seen him sitting next to me or heard his voice out of the blue have been few and far between.  Looking back, I think this is God’s grace, helping me to live in the present.  Jon is not here, but I know exactly where he is.  But the other day, I did have one of these rare moments.  I was alone in the car and struggling, I mean really struggling, crying all the tears.  I got to a stop light and looked to my right, and there he was, Jon, plain as day, sitting in the passenger seat.  He gave me a loving sad look as if to say, “I’m so sorry you are hurting” and then put his hand on my shoulder.  I smiled, then looked up at the stop light for a brief second.  When I turned back toward the seat, Jon was gone and Jesus was in his place.  Don't ask me how I knew it was Jesus...I just knew.  He was there, white robe and all, sitting next to me.  He looked right in my eyes and smiled.  The meaning was clear: “He’s not here anymore, but I Am.”  

Peace, love, and blessings my friends, as we journey together.  This life is not easy.  I hope to be there for you, as you have been here for me.  Thank you for your prayers and all the ways you have blessed our little family over and over and over again!