River Rescue

 

The Deschutes River in central Oregon is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Its serenely moving water through beautiful mountain scenery entices water enthusiasts by the hundreds each sunny summer day to enjoy a long, lazy float in a canoe, tube or raft. But there are stretches of dangerous rapids and waterfalls that can suddenly change a day of summer fun into a horrible tragedy in a matter of minutes.

It happened two weeks before we arrived in the locale for a family reunion; six people tied their tubes together and were enjoying their float so much that they missed the signs warning of dangerous water ahead. Too late, they realized they had missed the exit point, abandoned their tubes, and tried to swim to shore. Half the group made it; half were swept over the falls, their lives lost.

On this particular day, my family and I were on the river ourselves,  having signed up for a whitewater raft trip down a three-mile stretch of the same river. The six of us piled into the raft and were soon listening to our guide’s instructions on how to get back into the craft should we fall out or deliberately jump out to swim in one of the river’s more gentle spots.

What was interesting to me was that the person in the water does nothing but position himself at the edge of the raft. The lifting in is all done by a person still inside the craft, who reaches down and grabs the swimmer by the shoulder straps on the top of their life vest. He then falls backward into the raft, pulling the swimmer in on top of him, easy as can be.

I share this because the first few months after the loss of a husband can make you feel like you have likewise been thrown into fast-moving water and are in danger of drowning or being swept away. Some new widows are able to swim to safety on their own, but others rely on the strength of those in the same boat to reach out and haul them  back into the safety of the life-raft… the companionship of those in the same situation... as we listen to the directions of our Guide and navigate any rough water we may face in the future… together.

When the four in our party who had exited the raft to swim were ready to get back on board, the guide looked at my daughter-in-law and me expectantly, waiting for us to reach down and haul them in. Neither of us moved – we didn’t feel we had the strength necessary to pull somebody else on board, so the guide pulled the first one in himself. That person then pulled the next one in, and so forth until we were all safely on board once more.

On the bus trip home I remembered the words of the guide who urged us to help the others on board, a task we two women felt physically unable to perform at the time. When we watched the others in our group help each other back in, we realized it was something we could have accomplished, as well – we were simply afraid to try.

And so it is with those who are navigating the deep waters of widowhood. God is looking to those of us who have successfully come through the experience to reach out and help those who are struggling to get back on board… simply by offering companionship, physical help with day to day needs, and emotional support in ways as varied as the individuals we are. We all have the “strength” necessary – gifts or abilities of some kind to use in helping another through turbulent times. We just need to put them into action.

When feeling inadequate, we need only to think of how others helped us back in the boat when we were the ones struggling, and simply offer the same to the next one in line.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you…” (Isaiah 43:2 NIV)

The Angst of August

August and I were adversaries for a few years fallowing the death of my husband. I dreaded its arrival, bringing with it the memory of difficult days battling a terminal illness, first at home, then in the hospital. His life came to an end on the same day the month did. Each year the flip of the calendar page to that last month of summer depressed me.

God freed me from that recurring agony by changing my perspective... He moved me from defensive actions to going on the offensive. I could deliberately counter the onslaught of painful memories by writing activities into those daily calendar squares that I’d look forward to rather than dread. Suddenly August changed from a month of “angst” to one of adventure.

And it worked. I said “Yes!” to going on trips with my kids if the opportunities arose, and if they didn’t, I planned my own excursions to find new breakfast nooks or book a look at little towns in distant locales. Because I now plan to have fun in those 31 days, I do. Not every day has to be filled with activity; it was a new mindset God was after. He set me looking for joy instead of hiding from distress… an action I can choose every day of any month, for that matter.

August and I have come to terms with each other; we’re friends again. I never would have guessed it was possible, but now it’s even one of my favorite months of the year!

Besties! Who knew?!

“So I commend the enjoyment of life, because there is nothing better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany them in their toil all the days of the life God has given them under the sun.”

(Ecclesiastes 8:15 NIV)

(photo credit: Unsplash/MatthewSleeper) 

A Hug For All Seasons

 

I sent her a ring for no reason but the season she’s in.

 My friend lost her husband recently after a long battle with a form of blood cancer. She’s struggling right now in the initial stages of her loss.

 I know it’s hard. I know it’s lonely. But I want her to know that she’s not alone… no matter how empty the house, how silent her surroundings… or how heavy the weight of her grief.

A favorite song from days gone by was on my playlist this morning, “Alone Again, Naturally”. And although I love the song for old time’s sake, I’ve come to find that in my own experience as a widow, the message is simply wrong… I am not alone.. no matter how loud the voices in my head whisper that it is so.

Funny that right underneath the song on the phone playlist was an ad for an art design studio, and among the offerings was a ring that caught my attention.

I wear a lot of rings. Rather than just pretty baubles on my hand, they are packed with purpose, each one a reminder of a recent experience or bearing a message of some kind or another. So it’s no wonder I was attracted to the two silver “arms” that could wrap around a finger to deliver a hug.

I bought one to send to my friend, knowing it couldn’t replace the hug she was longing for or the two arms she longed to be held in once more. But I wanted her to have a visual reminder of a truth I hope she can come to understand… that she is never alone, even when she finds herself by herself. I pray that the sight of the ring on her finger would envelop her in memories of the life and love she shared with her husband, the love of their family and friends, and especially the constant presence of God, Who, more than any other, loves her so and simply wants her to know.

“Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”

(Isaiah 41:10 NKJV)

Names Etched on Hearts

In my many years as a grocery store cashier, there were certain regular customers who became especially dear. One such favorite was a retired serviceman, now aged and frail, who frequently  accompanied his wife on her shopping trips, always riding a motorized scooter, proudly telling everyone he met that it was given to him for free by the Veterans Administration. His first action upon entering the store was usually to find me and stop to chat for a bit while his wife shopped. After we had talked for a few minutes he’d zoom off after his spouse, and I wouldn’t see him again till the next time they came in and the action was repeated. We got to be good friends in those frequent, short interactions. After I retired I never saw him again, and a year or so later his wife messaged me to let me know he had passed. I was sad that I couldn’t make it to his funeral, but I cherished the happy memories he left behind.

So imagine my surprise as the events of the day yesterday unfolded: I dropped my little dog off for her grooming appointment, then stopped in at the little bakery next door to pick up a treat for breakfast. The small-town cemetery was in the lot opposite these two businesses; I found it a lovely and serene place to stop for a moment to drink my coffee and eat my just-purchased cherry turnover before heading off to accomplish other tasks. I drove to the back of the lot, over the little hill, and stopped in the shade of a beautiful tree in a spot that overlooked the rural countryside beyond. Rolling the windows down, I simply soaked in the peace and beauty of the place while eating.

I happened to look down at the grave marker nearest me, and was surprised to see that the name Skaggs was etched across the top in large black script.

“I know that name,” I thought to myself… and looked further down the stone to discover that I was indeed parked right beside the final resting place of the man I described above! And then I got tickled, because even though I had had absolutely no idea he was buried there, I don’t think I came upon that spot by chance. Only God could know that my next stop was going to be the very grocery store where this man so often made my day by stopping to say hi upon entering… and now He was giving me the chance to do the same back to him! The thought made me smile and I carried that smile for the rest of the day… just as I used to do whenever he would drive up on his scooter and say “Hey!”

I say all this because several friends of mine are in mourning at the moment; two have just lost their husbands, and the third had a son who recently passed away. In the throes of their grief, they feel like a part of their heart has been carved out and will never be returned.

God doesn’t allow that to happen, but will bring images of their loved ones back to them in the most unexpected moments and places. They will see their loved ones again in this lifetime, over and over again, as clearly as this morning I could see my veteran friend riding up to me on his scooter to make my day… moments that will keep them smiling until they find themselves together forever once more.

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” (Psalm 27:13 NIV)

 (photo credit: Unsplash/Waldemar)

 

 

Steps Marked by His Love

 

So… today would have been our 45^th wedding anniversary... and even in Jim's absence, it was still a day filled with joy and love.

I didn't mention it to anyone, and there are few people who still know the significance of the 7^th of June to my life anymore. And that’s perfectly fine; I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me or worry that I might be sad. And surely I was sad on this date the first couple of years after Jim passed. But slowly my feelings changed from sorrow to immense gratitude for the life and love we shared… and now I’m back to celebrating it again.

It's different now, of course – I’m doing things on my own. But my memories are full of the time we had together… and so my activities today center on those days.

This morning I made a playlist of our favorite songs to listen to as I drive around town this weekend. I made scrambled eggs for breakfast, remembering how my sister fulfilled her matron-of-honor duties of getting me ready for the day ahead by cooking me the same 45 years ago on this date. As I stopped to pet my pets on the couch, I lifted my eyes and saw the framed photo of Mt. St. Helens on a nearby wall, remembering how it erupted three weeks before our wedding in Washington state. I'm glad I can smile about it now, but back then it seemed like a disaster, as the skies rained mud and our entire world seemed covered in gray volcanic ash! When I arrived at the church on the morning of my big day, I found several men from our congregation shoveling and sweeping up the mess that had fallen, so that the parking lot would be clean for the soon arrival of the wedding party and the guests who were to come... still blessed today by such kindness shown back then.

Just before noon today I headed to a farm market that Jim and I liked to frequent each spring, and picked out a couple of our favorite annuals to fill the hanging pots I had left empty for that purpose, laughing at how delighted he would be that I was still receiving flowers on our special day! And then I stopped at a drive-through restaurant for the 2-piece fried fish or chicken dinner we so often picked up on our way home from church… and yes, I ate the hush puppies on the way home, just like we used to do, and found they tasted just as good today as they did when we used to sneak them hot out of the box back then. In short, I packed the day full of happy memories and recreated as many of them as I could.

I’ve learned through the years that anniversaries can still be happy days, even in widowhood, because I don’t celebrate alone. I knew God was on board today when I was sitting on the couch prior to leaving the house, and happened to glance down. There on the rug was the heart-shaped stitch marker I had “lost” a couple of nights ago while knitting as I watched TV. I looked high and low for it at the time, but I eventually had to get another, because the first seemed to have vanished into thin air. Now I know that God had grabbed it Himself, that He might deliberately place it where I would see it on my special day, and know that He would keep me in stitches, and my steps would be “marked” by His love in so many wonderful ways… making it a very Happy Anniversary, indeed.  

“For your Maker is your husband – the Lord Almighty is His Name…” (Isaiah 54:4 NIV)

Presence is Powerful

 

Another woman I know joined the ranks of widowhood this month.

She’s young, only in her early thirties, yet she and the love of her life had been together twelve years already, married for four. A surprise diagnosis of both leukemia and rectal cancer turned their lives upside down. They battled both bravely together for a year, and she (literally!) never left his side. But in the end he died and she cried.

And now I wonder what I can offer her in her situation. She has a lot of support – friends with the skills to help her with her financial decisions, girlfriends that gather to keep her smiling, and a devoted mother-in-law who has stayed near to help her tie up any loose ends. I’m over twice her age and on the perimeter of her friends group. What can I possibly do or say to help her in any way?

I can pray that she finds her way. For truly every one of us who has lost a husband knows the difficulty of moving forward without him – physically, emotionally, financially, and spiritually. Perhaps it’s in that last category that I can be the most help, with prayers that she would see that God is incredibly close to her broken heart.

I can try to brighten a day. The pastor who preached her husband’s funeral reminded those gathered around her in the church building that they needed to stay around her going forward. He challenged us to each pick a day every month to hold her hand in some way, through a text, a phone call, or time spent together.

I can remember her special days – their anniversary, his birthday, the anniversary of his passing – those days in which his loss is felt especially poignantly. Just knowing that somebody else is remembering the day’s significance along with her wraps a blanket around her hurting heart and will offer comfort as she slowly finds her way.

I can remember the ways I was helped in the early days of my sorrow, and perhaps find a place from my past from which to offer solace in her sorrowful present circumstances.

Reminding her of the very real Presence of God in her life by being present myself is likely the best way to offer help.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

(Psalm 34:18 NIV)

Rainbows Are For Real

 

It was my daughter-in-law Sarah who suggested it. Realizing we were coming up on my husband's birthday a year-and-a-half after his death, she thought it would be fun to remember him by dressing in support of his favorite baseball team and going out to eat his favorite food. The men in the family were all busy with another activity that night; it was up to us girls to celebrate on our own. We donned our best Cincinnati Reds baseball gear and were in the car driving to a nearby barbecue joint, when I suddenly noticed the look of the sky. It had been on and off cloudy all day, but a just-passed thunderstorm left dark clouds in front of us but sunshine now spilling all around us.

“It's a rainbow sky!”, I said with some excitement, noting that conditions were just right at that moment for the appearance of a beautiful bow. “Everybody keep an eye out for rainbows, and holler if you see one!” Just as I said that, I looked to my left and spotted a multi-colored arch outside my driver's side window! “THERE'S ONE!” I fairly shouted, and we all ooh-ed and aah-ed over it as we drove. A minute later it was suddenly gone with the shifting light and cloud formations, and we talked about how easy it is to miss them completely. Almost to the restaurant, though, we suddenly saw another. “Two in one day!” I exulted. “That's amazing!” We got to the restaurant and were enjoying our meal together, when suddenly a customer at another table spotted yet another rainbow out the front windows of the building. It was so pretty, bold and distinct, that dinner patrons left their tables and headed outside to take a picture of it. My granddaughter Chloe was sent to do the same. There was even a fainter secondary rainbow outside the first, making this third vision the most extraordinary yet.

Three in one day! My heart overflowed and a smile split my face every time I thought about it. And yet I still didn't get it...until while again marveling over the sightings on our way home, Sarah said, “You know, that was Jim... saying hi.” Suddenly it hit me. Of course that's what it was! And then I burst out laughing at the thought of how frustrated my husband would be at having to send THREE rainbows before we got the message! I could just picture him seated next to the Almighty and saying helplessly, “They're just not getting it, God! We're running out of daylight here! What are we going to do?” And so they sent the double whammy, hoping we'd finally get the point. And when we did, the laughter... so like my husband to always leave me with a smile on my face and a laugh in my heart.

Jim didn't send any more rainbows that day... he didn't need to; we finally got the message. But God simply never stops... and I wonder if He doesn't likewise get a little frustrated when we repeatedly miss the messages of His love that He lays before us in a million different ways as we go about our days. He placed the first bow in the sky as an act of love and a promise that He would never again let floods destroy us. No wonder on stormy days in life we still lift our eyes to the skies and look for a sign of His presence and His love. Rainbow skies just mean that God's eyes are on you... you are loved more than you can imagine, and safe in the shelter of His grace.

 “I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth...Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.”

(Genesis 9:13,15 NIV)