I pressed the blue and white app like usual. And there it was. My eyes immediately landed on a friend's post that changed the bearing of my day.
My intention was simply to post about my husband's birthday. Hers was saying quite the opposite. She couldn't sleep. And I immediately knew. I knew exactly why. Her husband had recently passed away. Passed away. She was lying in a bed with him no longer there. The emotions hit me like a punch to the gut. She couldn't sleep. Of course she couldn't. And I had just slept beside mine without giving it a second thought. My heart ached for her.
In her post, she had tagged two of our other friends, all of us having gone to school together since kindergarten and all of us throwing our graduation caps in the air at the same moment. All three of them have now buried husbands, two of them within the last six months. All three of them knowing the same ugly loss. And all I wanted to do was wish mine a happy birthday. It seemed out of place now.
Reality bites sometimes.
I read it and then read it again. And I wondered if she was sleeping at that moment. I wondered if she was back to work or how she was finding comfort. I wondered how they were all three doing with this bond that they now shared but none had asked for. It reminded me of how easy it is to go on with life as usual and forget that others are hurting and not sleeping.
It put my day in perspective. It made me sensitive to the fact that today might be a birthday in our house, but it might mean planning a funeral in another. Today for us might mean a cake with candles, but right around the corner others might be picking out a casket.
This world is imperfect and unfair. Life is difficult at best. That sounds gloomy and anti-birthday, but we've all lived it and know it's true. Sometimes life just doesn't make sense. Sometimes the only sense to be made is that we are simply not to understand the here and now. It can feel cruel and unfair. Cancer, accidents, death, childhood diseases, and the list goes on.
Tomorrow marks the 19th anniversary of the death of my nine-year-old niece. She was vibrant, talented, outspoken, and cute as a bug.
That year, the day she died was the day before Thanksgiving, and it was also the day after my husband's birthday. Life and death are now yearly remembered one day apart. The house flooded with food and we still had a celebratory meal as a family. Mallory, even at a young age, had placed her faith in Jesus. She believed in more than just this life. She believed in an eternal heavenly life, one forever with Christ. Because of that, we could rejoice through heartache.
Days like today, and like that day, remind me that our only hope is Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. God the Creator, the One who brings life and birthdays, is also the God in complete control of death. Sin brought death into the world and made our current world pretty dreadful. That same God who controls death made a way to have life abundant, both in this life and in the one to come. Our only Hope is Jesus. Because of Him, we can celebrate the good - the birthdays, Thanksgivings, Christmases, and Easters, and all the rest. And because of Him, we can persevere through the horrible.
I'll finish this post the way I began my day, by celebrating my husband's birthday. Sheila and Laura and Chrissy would want me to do that, I know they would. They would tell me to celebrate and laugh and hug and make memories that can never be taken away. And I will tell them they are loved and thought of often.
Happy Birthday, Hubs. I'm thankful for all the years God graciously gives you to me. Every single one will be cherished and celebrated and not taken for granted.
I'm even thankful for the years of ugly sweaters and big glasses. And here's to many more.....years, not glasses.
Our Only Hope..............
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