Wailing Women of the Woods

She screamed and screamed and screamed.

I thought it was part of my dream at first, somebody yelling at me from the back of a restaurant. But the dream ended and the screaming continued… again, and again, and again!

I’d heard the sound before, but just twice, late at night, coming from the dark woods behind my house. Those times I'd heard just a couple of short blasts of sound, and wondered to myself what type of bird (I assumed!) could possibly be making that noise.

But in the pre-dawn hours of this morning it kept on and on and on… loud enough to wake everyone in the house, I was sure. Gradually the sound lessened as the animal moved further away. Finally I heard it no more.

“Wow!” I thought to myself. “What on earth was that?” I went online this morning to find out. After typing, “What animal is screaming behind my house at night?” into the search bar, I listened to the sound clips of various animals that were listed as possibilities.

I scoffed to see “red fox” on the list. Foxes surely don’t scream, do they? But when I clicked on the clip, I recognized it immediately as the sound I’d heard.

Fascinating! I love the thought of a burgeoning fox population in my neck of the woods, although I am less than enthused about being jerked awake by their vocalizations so early in the morning!

But what did it mean? Usually when I’m so taken by something in nature that I’ve witnessed recently it’s because God has something to show me. I went to Him and asked. His response? “She’s the wailing woman of the woods.”

If you’re reading this today, it’s because you and I know a little about wailing women. We’ve been one. Maybe your grief is fresh and you still are one. But both of us know what it means to release the anguish of our hearts before God.

Not all of us do it so loudly. Some do, of course, and that’s fine; everybody grieves differently. Some are very vocal in their pain, while others share it more silently but equally poignantly in social media posts that go on for weeks and months.  And others of us might be more private in our heartbreak, but yet feel it just as intensely.

The point is that our wails don’t have to be loud for God to hear them. He hears the silent cries of hearts that lie broken before Him. Amy Grant’s new song, “Beautiful Lone Companion” talks about Jesus keeping to the mountains and valleys, sleeping by rivers and streams, foraging for human pain.

What comfort there is to know that God is looking for those of us who are wailing in our own dark woods… a sound that perhaps only His heart can hear, calling for solace that only His Love can bring.

“In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears… He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters.”

(Psalm 18:6,16 NIV)

 (Photo credit: Unsplash/DamianKwiatkowski)

"Anche Tu?"

When I first heard about the Widowed Village organization, I was excited about the opportunity to connect with other women of a similar age and passage of time since their husband’s death. I believe it’s so important that we support and encourage each other as we step forward in life after the death of our spouses.

The program offers to pair you up with likely email correspondents, and I eagerly awaited the assignment of mine. But when the addresses arrived, I sat in front of my computer and found myself at a loss as to how to begin. My husband has been gone almost seven years now. If they were in a similar time frame, then, like me, they are likely past the initial onslaught of grief and are well into the next stage of their lives. I didn’t think there was anything I could share that they hadn’t already discovered for themselves.

The question of what to say so stymied me that I couldn't move forward; I never reached out. Maybe they felt the same way, because I never heard from them, either. 

A couple of months passed. And then out of the blue, I got another email from Widowed Village with another name to contact.

It wasn't an accident. I know it was God encouraging me to take this step and connect. He knows I love letters, encouragement, and friends. Writing has always been good therapy for me. I could almost hear His voice saying, "Go on. Write to her. You can do this. Go on now...". 

In the end, He used two words to convince me: Anche tu?

To understand, you'd have to know that I love all things Italian. My dad came over from Italy when he was only 5 years old, and his family settled in the San Francisco area. I grew up listening to my Italian relatives speaking to each other constantly in their native tongue, eating Italian feasts in my Nonna's huge basement with lots of singing and drinking, talking and laughter. To my shame, I never picked up any of it - I never learned Italian as a child, I can't cook a pasta dish worth a noodle... all I remember is the love and joy, the warmth and deliciousness of it all. 

I'm making the effort to catch up now, lol. I’m trying to learn the language - a task that would've been so much easier if I'd had any desire to do it when I was growing up! But as part of my current learning experience, I watch Italian dramas on Netflix, in Italian, with English subtitles. It was while watching one of those that I heard a song that was a big hit in Italy called Fotoromanza by Gianna Nannini. I didn't get much out of the song except that every little stanza seemed to suggest a thought or action, and then ended with the words, "Anche tu?", which literally means, "You, too?" It was catchy, and the words, Anche tu started to echo in my mind.

And finally, I realized that that was what this writing connection… and this blog, for that matter…  could be all about... that we simply share situations we experience as widows, no matter how long we’ve been in that state, with the mindset that maybe what we are going through is something that another has experienced or felt in their journey, as well.

“Anche, tu?”  It could at least be a starting point.

And so that is what I did. I simply wrote about two things that had happened to me lately, the  first of which was my struggle with finding reliable contractors to complete home repair jobs, something my husband always used to take care of, now a task that’s fallen to me. And the other was my surprise at an unexpected wave of grief that overtook me on my way home from church last week; something I hadn’t experienced in such intensity since early on in my loss.

She responded in less than twenty-four hours, and our friendship journey has begun!

And it all started with simply sharing a heart, maybe a hard place… and a desire to help another who might be in the same space. That’s how I want to live my life going forward… anche tu?

 “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.”

(1 Thessalonians 5:11 NIV)

(Photo credit:Unsplash/CHUTTERSNAP)

 

 

Daffodils on Display

My daffodils are decked in tresses of white this morning, their heads bent low, covered in snow.

Oh, I know… it happens every year.

I can’t tell you how excited I was a couple of weeks ago when I first spotted the green stems poking out of the ground! In no time at all it seemed the tips started to swell… then turn a pale yellow… and finally burst open in a glorious explosion of springtime joy!!!

And then last night came another round of snow, and this morning those yellow bonnets are bent down low.

Perhaps you know how they feel. You buried your spark along with your spouse and have endured months of emotional darkness and cold, no matter what the time of year. It’s been a struggle; we’re reminded that new life is birthed only through pushing and pain; grief doesn’t want to let go. But maybe of late your spirits have started to warm up a bit, and a sprout of hope has made its way through the layers of sadness holding it down. To your surprise you may have felt a swelling in your spirit as things started to look a little brighter. Maybe a few bursts of joy and laughter have at last made their way into your days. 

And then came another blast of snow… bad news or a new difficulty blew in… maybe the arrival of another anniversary or the passing of the latest solitary holiday… and just like that you are brought low and bent over, seemingly crushed by the weight of it all.

The thing about spring snow, though, is that it’s a quick go. The daffodils seem to rise up and shake off the layer of white, turning their heads and hearts to the Light beaming over them, receiving it’s warmth once again.

May you find the strength to do the same.

“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; wait I say, on the Lord!”

(Psalms 27:13-14 NKJV)

 

 

Flowers (And Marriages) Aren't Forever, But God's Love Is

 

If you’re still in the early days of the loss of your spouse, in the early stages of grief, this post probably isn’t for you. And that’s because there’s truth in the statement that distance gives perspective. Sometimes you have to be a ways down the road to recovery before you can look back at situations in the past and view them differently.

I remember that in those first few months after losing my husband I felt that because I’d lost the love of my life, that I’d lost all love in my life.

I couldn’t have been more wrong, but I couldn’t see it then. In recent days God gave me a picture to help me understand.

Valentine’s weekend is recently past, and Jim always gave me a bouquet of flowers to show his love. I loved receiving them, of course, and did my best to keep them looking fresh for as long as possible. I put them in water, stirring in the little packet of preservative that came with the flowers to feed them and keep the water fresh, trimming the ends of the stems to help their ability to absorb it, and later replacing the water and re-trimming the stem ends as needed. I pulled off dead leaves, petals, and old blooms when necessary to keep the bouquet beautiful for as long as possible. I enjoyed it every day until eventually it was spent and I had to throw it away.

Never once did I think that in doing so I was throwing Jim’s love away; just an expression of the same.

When Jim and I got married, I was very aware that my husband was a gift from God, similarly an expression of His love for me. I received it gratefully, and over the years we nurtured our marriage the way I tended to a bouquet of flowers – keeping it fresh with regular infusions of the water of the Spirit and the food found in God’s Word, working together through problems and removing withered parts of our past. Most of all we enjoyed our time together… until that time was past. Over the years however, without it being my intention, I subconsciously equated “love” with “Jim”, not God. So when my husband passed, my heart felt that it had lost all the love it had known, increasing the feelings of despair and sadness.

Perhaps it was His Valentine’s gift to me this year that God, too, gave me “flowers”… a mental picture that my heart finally understood. My marriage to Jim was an expression of God’s love for me the way my annual flower bouquet was an expression of the Jim’s love for me. The marriage didn’t represent the totality of God’s love an more than a bouquet could represent Jim’s. When the flowers eventually died, I still had Jim and his love. And when Jim died and our marriage came to an end, I still had God’s.

I don’t remember much about the wedding bouquet I tossed to my bridesmaids at the end of my special day… but I can look back and see 39 gorgeous “stems” in my marriage bouquet from God – each year shaped and colored differently by the joys and sorrows it contained. Funny that those pictures never fade - they remain fresh in my memory and heart. And He continues to give me evidences of His love every day that I look up to Him with the same.

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

(Romans 8:38-39 NIV)

His Love Hangs On

The holiday season is over, and so I’ve been busy packing up the decorations that help make it so special. One by one, piece by piece, they are put away till it’s time for them to  bring joy again next year.

I added something new to my collection last December, however… a small pre-lit pine tree with a few sprigs of holly and pinecones nestled in the branches. Inspired by a t-shirt my sister gave me, my daughter-in-law and I spent a fun morning winding little yarn ball ornaments to hang from the branches, reflecting my love of both knitting and Christmas. I loved the way it turned out and switch the lights on to add cheer to my devotional hour each morning, even long after all my other Christmas lights have been dimmed for the year.

The problem is that I have enjoyed it so much that now I can’t bear to put it away. And so, I decided I could decorate it seasonally and allow it to stay. And it turned out that God wanted to use it to illustrate a message He sent my way.

You see, a friend of mine lost her husband suddenly just the other day. He went out to run an errand, and she saw his truck pull in the driveway upon his return… except he never reentered the house. Concerned, she went out to see what he was doing and found him unresponsive; despite heroic measures to resuscitate him, he passed away. Her heart is broken; she is feeling her way day to day… a path all of us reading this blog have trod.

While I hadn’t seen either of them in years, I remember them both fondly from the days years ago when my husband led a small group Bible study in their home. Once a week Terry set a hot meal in front of us as we visited over her kitchen table. Then the table was cleared, the notebooks and Bibles came out, and my husband shared a lesson of some sort which we discussed together. We always ended in a time of prayer, and left with warm and happy hearts; laughter and peace were our escorts home.

Years have passed since those days, and how strange to think that the men in that group are all celebrating with Jesus today in Heaven. I like to picture them enjoying being together again, sharing laughs and exploring the wonders of Heaven together.

Although they are all gone, One remains, One who loves each of us as fiercely as our husbands once did. We are not alone. He brings love, comfort and direction in every way that we need it. And so, as I packed away the holiday decorations, I felt led to leave one particular set or ornaments out – a collection of small hearts that I will hang on my little tree in place of the yarn balls I made. To me they represent the Love of the Christmas season, which although perhaps we feel most in December, remains with us in January, February, and every month that we “march” through in the rest of the year. I think God would remind us that the love of our husbands “hangs around” our lives constantly; it’s not packed away upon their deaths. We catch glimpses of it increasingly as we go through our days, and we will notice it more and more as our eyes and hearts grow accustomed to looking for it.

God hung His Heart upon a rough cut “tree” for me a long time ago; I’m so grateful He never has packed it away, but that it comforts, guides and encourages me every day.

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?... For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” 

(Romans 8:35,38-39 NIV)

New Year's Day Delay

Your New Year’s Day may not hit on January 1^st… and that’s okay.

I know what the calendar says. But New Years is more of a mindset than a holiday, and if your mind is not currently set on celebration, for you there was no reason to stay up late, raise a glass in a toast or watch a ball drop, especially if your mood is already down as you enter the hew year without the one you loved and lost… however long ago that may have been.

So many around me this year are in that exact spot and feel no reason to celebrate the hope of happiness that seems to have taken wing and flown away.

While reflecting on this one morning just before the turn of the year, I happened to look out my bedroom window. The sun had not yet risen and in those predawn minutes I could just barely see a bluebird perched on the edge of the heated water dish that sits on the deck railing, surrounded at the moment by snow. The bird was drinking repeatedly in the cold and the dark, knowing that daylight was about to break through.

May I suggest that we simply do the same? No matter how dismal and cold and heavy our life situations feel today, let us keep drinking deeply in the well of God’s love for us, secure in the knowledge that the Light will break through this current darkness, and better days are on the way. And when Hope finally has its way in your heart again, as it eventually will, raise a toast to the One Who loves you the most, and then celebrate your personal Happy New Year’s Day.

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

(Hebrews 11:1 KJV)