Handrail of Hope

I was young, pregnant with my first child, and excited about entering this next stage of my life’s journey. My husband and I had recently moved into a new house and were working on putting the final touches on the place we were now so excited to call home. My mother shoved my husband’s to-do list aside and told her son-in-law in no uncertain terms that his absolute first task was to install a handrail for the basement stairs, a necessity the builder had left undone. She was not about to risk the health of her daughter nor that of the precious grandchild she was carrying by that neglect or oversight. Jim did as he was bid.

Decades passed, and with the passing of my husband, I found myself once again entering a new stage of my life’s journey. This time it was my heavenly Father rather than my earthly mother Who insisted on the construction of a “handrail of hope”  to hold on to as I took my first tentative steps across the bridge from my old life to the new.

The handrail to my basement stairs is supported by a multitude of posts that together bear the weight of the rail I hold on to. What support posts did I need to rely on now as I moved forward?

The first was the emotional support of my family and friends. One of the latter connected with me every few weeks over lunch to make sure I had someone to be with, cry with, and laugh with… to help carry the weight of my sorrow. I realized I needed that social connection to keep my feet moving forward and not be sucked into the quicksand of gloom and despair. I found I needed to be sure to reach out and grab the hands friends held out to me – it was important to stay social.

I needed to look for and accept the practical support of those who offered to help with the multitudes of things that needed to be done, especially in the early days after Jim’s death – a lawyer friend who handled my legal needs for next to nothing, a church contact who referred me to a financial planner, and through him to a tax analyst. Another church friend spread mulch and planted flowers in the yard while a lawn care company took care of the grass cutting. A ministry at my local church would even send helping hands to fix problems my husband would have handled had he still been around.

I was so touched and comforted by the spiritual help of pastors from my past who checked in with me regularly to make sure I was doing ok. And I made a point of church attendance to keep my soul on track… but mostly just to show up and say, “Thanks!” to God on a weekly basis for all the help I’d been given in the previous seven days. Joining a small community group was important for fellowship and accountability purposes.

One by one I added other support posts I found I needed – volunteer activities to give my days purpose and to keep an outward focus. I postponed retirement for a while, knowing I needed the social contacts and scheduled structure of my job. I enjoyed hobbies either alone or with friends, joined gyms to stay healthy and active, tried new things, and took a few trips to see new sights.

The point is that the support you need is available and just needs to be set in place to give you some security to hang on to as you move into this new way of living. Each post is merely an extension of God’s hand as He lovingly reaches for yours and guides you  each step of your way forward into the beauty of all that He has planned.

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10 NIV)

(photo credit: Unsplash/AnnieSpratt)