Are You Feeling Lost In Life?
I miss his sense of humor. I miss hearing him call me “Shuga”. I miss holding hands in the car and singing as loud as we can to the radio. I miss his strong arms. I miss riding the fields on the gator with him. I miss watching him ride the tractor. I miss sitting on the swing and talking. I miss watching Gunsmoke at nights. I miss the way he loved me. I miss it all.
My husband was like an old shoe. Comfortable. And for the most part, he was comfortable where ever he was. He knew no stranger. He found common ground with everyone. He could sing like nobody’s business. He could rock a piano from end to end. Even with one leg, he could dance. He could back up any piece of equipment or trailer with ease. He could rig anything to make it work. He saved everything, just in case he needed to rig something to make it work. He could tell a story with such gusto you hung on every word. He could do anything he set his mind to do.
He loved to farm. He loved the outdoors. He loved planting and harvesting a crop. He loved to work. He loved feeding cows in the snow. He loved mowing the grass. He loved his homeplace. He loved music. He loved reminiscing with me about all the places he’d farmed. He loved animals. He loved westerns, especially Matt Dillon. He often said we need more leaders like Matt Dillion! He loved meatloaf and chocolate, but not together. He loved Country Cookin’.
He loved people. He loved his church. He loved his family. He loved me. He loved Jesus.
And we both loved love. We loved being in love and we loved others in love. Whenever we’d see a young couple holding hands, we’d look at each other and say, “Ain’t love grand?”
When I first lost Joe, I made the statement to an old dear friend that I felt like a boat without a dock. I was just circling in the water with nowhere to come home to.
And this wise, old, dear friend said to me, “Oh no, you are now the dock.”
It took me awhile to figure out just what she meant. But after a lot of praying and pondering, here is what I think she meant.
When I had my Joe here, he was my dock. I was safe tied up to him. Yes, at times I’d untie the ropes and venture out, but I always knew where my home base was. And I never lost sight of the dock, no matter where I motored to. You see, I was/am more outgoing than Joe. Yes, he loved people, but more than that, he loved home and being together at home. He never stopped me from participating in other things, but his greatest joy was just being home with me.
After I lost him, I became the dock for our family.
I was now the steady and steadfast anchor for them.
Do I feel steady and steadfast? No. Do I like this new roll? Not so much. I’m still in the grief phase. Some days I don’t feel like the glue that holds us together. Some days I don’t want to be the glue that holds us together.
There are times I feel like I can’t put one foot in front of the other. Some times I feel like I want to run as fast and as hard as I can in the opposite direction. Some days I just want to cry.
But in spite of all of this…in spite of my loss, in spite of my “new position”…I know that Jesus is my true dock…my anchor in the storm…my steadfast Lord that I can always count on.
As we become older, our roles do change. Family dynamics change. Our living situations change.
However, one thing never changes…Jesus.
Maybe you, too, have recently experienced a loss. And maybe you feel like your boat is drifting in a vast sea of uncertainty.
Steer your boat back to Jesus. Dock in His faithfulness and His love. There you will find comfort in the midst of your grief, peace in the midst of your chaos, and love in spite of your loss. He loves you more than you will ever understand. And He is constantly working on your behalf.
And on the days when you feel like you can’t put one foot in front of the other…do this one thing…Trust Him.
Then go live as one who is spoken for…because you do not dwell under your circumstances…you live under the shelter of His wings.
“ He will cover you with His feathers. He will shelter you with His wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection. ”