Yesterday was a notable day. It marked the third anniversary of my dad’s passing. It was the third Sunday back at my home church. I attended the game changer reset meeting at church and made decisions to get plugged in again on Sunday morning. (That was huge step for me at this stage of my grief.)
With the help of a couple of friends from “that” lifegroup, the beast of a tv stand was finally assembled and the last box containing DVD’s was unpacked. Praise God, no more corrugated in my home.
What really stood out were the conversations. Until now I’ve kept pretty much to myself, thankful for the mask that helps me hide, inviting very few in (as I’ve literally been unable to string together coherent sentences without bursting into tears and I hate making people feel uncomfortable.) Words like ‘grief’ and ‘future’ still send me over the edge, but for whatever reason God gave me a little extra yesterday to be able to engage. I was able to meet new people and reconnect with old acquaintances, although there are certain people I still can’t face yet because when I get around them I just want to weep … and let’s be honest, Sunday morning before service just isn’t the time or place.
Proverbs 27:17 says ‘As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.’ Yesterday I had a sense of both. There are people here I can serve to sharpen as well as people who will sharpen me. Don’t we all need this, someone to help along in their walk with the lord, and someone ahead of us to help us along in ours?
There were the curious who had heard rumors and made assumptions and simply wanted details. I was able to tell a few stories here and there without getting too detached. The truth is that what the lord has done, how He has sustained me, comforted and provided for me is nothing short of incredible. I have to tell and retell my story to give Him honor and glory. The better I am able to tell, the quicker I think I will begin to heal. It’s just not easy.
There was a God moment during first service that I have to share. Back in 2011 a friend from church tragically lost her husband on the day we were all going to watch the Courageous movie. He left behind a young widow and three little girls. It was a heartbreaking time.
So, during service I happened to notice the pen I was using to take notes was a promotional item from that very movie and instantly Mary and her girls came to my mind. Her courage and faith at that time moved me, but remembering how she was THEN was impacting me NOW as a widow in a whole new way. So right then, during church I sent her a FB message. I knew her little family had moved back home to Nebraska, but I felt compelled to message her right away.
Little did I know that Mary and the girls were sitting in the middle section in the same service yesterday morning. I was able to hug her and tell her I love her. I can’t tell you how the moment impacted her, but it left a mark on me.
There’s no doubt in my mind that the Holy Spirit was moving yesterday.