Pushing back the "whys"
I was not expecting this. Push back the pain Laura! Not now! I need to keep it together! Get through the service, get home and then and only then, have a good cry. I was greeted today by a beloved couple who goes to our sister church. This was very bittersweet for me because her husband was there and witnessed the passing of my husband. That bitter day of October 18, 2016 (bitter for me, freedom and healing for Jorge) I walked into the room, my husband had just been intubated, reported to me that he was stable. This gentleman, a brother and co-laborer in the Lord, decided to visit. My husband was part of a team of 3 in his service for our church. It wasn't uncommon to see the three of them at church talking, praying, fellowshipping or having a meeting usually at our house. This friend was visiting and just as I turned my back to greet another friend who just arrived, the monstrous alarms starting going off, lights blinking, hospital staff scrambling, pushing me out of the way, trapping this friend inside of the room to witness my husband leave this world. I briefly turned around only to see an ocean of people surrounding my husband and one nurse performing CPR. This is not something I would wish on my worst enemies. I knew in my heart that my husband wasn't coming back, he was free, in peace, healed. It was over!
Seeing this friend today brought it all back, every single detail, as if it just happened 15 minutes ago. It also brought back that horrid question: why? I thought maybe my heart was at least free of that question. I thanked him for being there with my husband. Now I re-live that night, I guess that is why I am writing this, in the hopes that I can leave it here in the blog and fall asleep. As I was chatting with this friend, holding back the tears, the other brother approaches. I turn my attention to the ladies who are also standing there with me. Holding back more tears as I see these two men talking. This image was incomplete! There were only two of them, there are supposed to be three; my husband wasn't there. He is supposed to be there! He is part of that team! Why? Why? Why? Holding back the urge to run and hide, I swallow it and move on. And whatever you do Laura, don't look at the stain glass windows that have the word SOLA, which means alone in Spanish (I think it means something else in Latin, the reason those words are there) Be strong, get through this, don't cry, enough crying! This was an exhausting evening. I hate this! Why must every thing remind me that my husband is dead? That I am a widow!
Tomorrow is another day and I will desperately seek that mercy that will be new and promised by God. I think I have accepted this direction God has chosen for us, not gonna lie and say that I agree....so many times I try to convince God that He made a mistake. In His grace and mercy, He has not stricken me down. Trust Me! That still small voice says.
So with half of a mustard seed of faith, I may not be able to move mountains, but I will get out of bed and seek to grow my faith until I can move mountains. Thank you for your reading eyes.