Yes, I’m a pastor who believes what I preach and understands that I am never alone. I also know that as a widow, I go it alone every day.
By the grace of God, I made it through December. When there weren’t tears in my eyes, my heart cried. When my heart wasn’t crying, my spirit yearned. When my spirit wasn’t yearning, I muddled through. Friends shine some light into my life. Family sprinkled in a few days of brightness. Each day brings its own joys and challenges because that’s life.
The calendar flipped with a low-key solo celebration, exactly what I needed. Oddly, that becomes another grief thing: realizing that your loved one won’t see a whole new year on the calendar. The new year also brought a few new anxieties with it: things he used to do that I now have to do. I’ll figure them out. I have no choice. Serenity now!
The grief bursts I thought I was past still come a hauntin’ every now and then. Updating emergency contacts. Again? Who do I list? Which sparks the thought: are all my beneficiaries up to date? I’m pretty sure I did that in the grief haze days. Also, filling out a form and seeing “spouse” with a blank for their name. Am I single? Am I married? There was no widow option. It feels weird to leave it blank. No one tells you these things. I went with putting his name with (deceased). That felt right for this go around.
All of this happens personally when my heart and head spin with the influx of doomscrolling social media and the state of current events. Somehow, I believe my grief is helping me process everything.
My everyday examen: How can I go and make a difference beyond screaming into the void? I won’t change someone’s mind by piling on with a post, comment, or rant. That would be preaching to the choir. I pray every day that God will change hardened hearts, bring hope to the hopeless, embolden all called to public witness, and give me the courage to proclaim the gospel faithfully wherever and however God intends. Loving your neighbor is serious business. May we learn to see eye-to-eye with eyes of compassion rather than looking down on our neighbors and putting ourselves on pedestals when we ought to be on pedi-stools ready to wash our neighbor’s feet.
Going it alone is scary. God be with us all.
(Photo of a cat up to no good.)