Closure

Imagine you and your husband have this huge fight.  In this fight you pull away from them, and don't say the things you want to.  You give them a cold shoulder, instead of a hug.  This fight is different from all others, instead of reconciling quickly, you hold your ground, and the fight lasts for a few days.  Can you relate?  Now imagine in the midst of that fight your husband suddenly dies.  Its so hard to imagine, it seems incomprehensible.  Its something we never ever would want to happen.  But it happened to me.

Last October I had some difficult decisions to make.  I'm going to be fairly vague, because I want to honor my late husband, his memory, and our children.  My husband had some very serious personal struggles which had consumed him for a few years.  I stood by him.  I supported him.  I prayed.  We went through all types of counseling.  And it all helped, but it didn't help enough.  Nothing short of the power of God coming into his life could set him free from the bondages he faced.  And unfortunately it was those bondages that made it difficult for my late husband to receive that healing and freedom from God.

I believed in him, more than he did himself.  And the point came when I realized he needed to believe in himself.  No matter how hard I tried I couldn't save Him.  No one could.  So under God's leading I took a stand.  I took a stand for my children.  I took a stand for my life.  And I took a stand for God.  It was a difficult season, one of the hardest things I've ever done.  And to my disappointment, he chose to fall farther into his issues, ultimately leading to his death on November 24, 2010.  In the most unsettled time of our relationship, he died.

I learned a very valuable lesson in that time of taking a stand: I'm responsible for my own actions and decisions, I am not responsible for how someone else responds to them.  I know that I did what was best for my family, and I had the blessing of God.  I never wanted my husband to respond the way he did.  And I wish things had played out different.  But the fact is it did happen. The good news is that he had a personal relationship with Jesus. He is in heaven!  And he is finally free from the bondages which held him back so greatly here on earth.  And we are free too!

But in the midst of this new life of freedom, there is a constant longing in my heart... closure.  I loved Jonathan.  I loved him deeply.  I loved him in a way many couldn't understand.  I loved him with the love of God.  And he died, right in the middle of a "fight".  How do you deal with that? How do you grieve the loss of someone who you still love as a husband, even when you weren't united?

Some people think because of the situation we were in, and all the struggles we faced, that this loss would be easier.  Death of a spouse is never easy, regardless of the circumstance!  There are so many things I want to say to him.  So much I want him to know.  And I can only hope that God reveals it to him in Heaven.  Someone once asked me what I would say to my husband if I could see him again.  Here is my answer: "I love you!"  More than anything I want him to know that I really did love him!  The stand I was taking was not one I wanted to take, but I had to.  And somehow in that I think he questioned my love.  But the stand was a stand of love.  Because I loved him, I did it.

I wish I could have one more day with him, so that I could tie up these lose ends.  But I can't.  So I trust God to bring closure that only He can.  And I see Him doing it in subtle ways.  I see closure in the tears I cry at the altar.  I see closure when I enjoy the freedom we now walk in, compared to the struggles we had.  I see closure every time I accomplish something for the business.  I see closure as I become increasingly more confident and independent.  I see closure each time God removes pain from a negative stimulus in my life.  I see closure as I discover myself again. And I see closure as I write this blog.

I believe that God will continue to bring closure, more and more as the anniversary approaches.  I have a wonderful future ahead of me, and perhaps that future is another level of closure as well.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.  Psalm 23:4-5

Liquid Prayers

You never know when its gonna hit you.  Sometimes its the most appropriate of moments: taking a final ride in the '51 Ford Pick-up Truck he rebuilt before it goes to its new home; walking into the restaurant you went to the night you were engaged; or seeing the grave marker newly installed on his grave.  Sometimes its the most random and odd things which spark it: his sit board he used as he cleaned windows on the outside of 30 story buildings; walking through the parking lot and emergency room where you went that morning when you got the call; or walking to your seat at the Christmas Eve church service.  Tears streaming down your face uncontrollably, a flood of emotions, a pinch of sadness, all in an instant...


Today it was in the middle of my Pentecostal Doctrine class.  Random.  Odd.  Almost embarrassing.  But I couldn't help it.  There I was, tears flowing uncontrollably, hoping no one would notice, but I have learned enough at this point to not fight it.  Something in the content of the lecture sparked it, and in my heart I understood and knew why it was I found myself in this moment of healing, but yet words can't express it.  I  recognized that something had pricked my heart, found another broken piece, and it needed healing.

I didn't always respond that way.  When my husband first passed away last fall I grieved hard at the funeral.  It was hard and intense.  I knelt beside his dirt covered grave before I left and said "I'm leaving it all here."  I thought that was the Christian thing to do.  I thought I needed to be strong and move on.  I thought that crying or exposing hurt was a sign of weakness, a result of lack of trust in God.  I felt this very real, yet unspoken, pressure to show everyone how great God was.  And I would do that by being strong. "I was fine."  I suppressed so many natural emotions for the first 5 months because I had believed that to acknowledge those moments when they came was doubting God's work.  And it lead me to an emotional crisis.

I found myself being led by God to change churches at just the right time.  It was a divine intervention of God for my healing.  For at this new church I found freedom.  As I entered each Sunday I was anonymous.  No one knew me.  No one knew what I had walked through.  I didn't have to answer to anyone, or put on a smile.  It was just me and God.  And thats what I needed.  I let my guard down and let God in.  I would answer every altar call at the end of service, walk up that altar to a prayer minister and just cry.  I couldn't express why I was crying.  I couldn't express what I needed prayer for.  Sometimes I would kneel at the altar, during worship especially, and the tears would just keep flowing; my liquid prayers.  They continued intensely for 6 weeks, and slowly began to taper... they still happen although they are more spuratic.

In that time at the altar God corrected me.  On May 1, 2011 God spoke to my heart.  This is what I wrote in my journal that morning:

"Let go of self image and 'I'm so strong, I'm healed, Its all okay'."  Its okay to hurt.  Its okay to let it show.  Its okay to not be able to do everything.  The 'I'm healed' is about ME; pride that I can walk through it, I'm so strong.  Let go of 'me' and 'self'.  Let GOD heal me and He WILL get the glory!!! Its okay to still need to be healed.  It doesn't lessen my testimony or God's healing.  I really did love him selflessly.  Hurt is normal! Let God bring it out and heal it!"

So in those moments, whether at the altar during service, or sitting in a class, I have learned to acknowledge the mourning or grief as a need for healing. And my prayer in these times has become "Bring it up. Bring it out. Heal my heart God."  I know that in these moments God is working, taking the brokenness and making something beautiful with my life!

It doesn't mean you don't trust him.  It doesn't mean you don't believe.  

It doesn't mean you don't know he's not redeeming everything. 

You don't need to run.  You don't need to speak.

Baby take some time, let those prayers roll down your cheek.

It may be tomorrow, you'll be past the sorrow.  

But tonight, it's alright...

Just cry.

-Mandisa, "Just Cry"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T4MbnlSMDoE&feature=related