Being a widow still hurts.

When people say I can’t believe you “went” through that. In the stillness of my heart I reply “I am still going through it.”. Still feeling pain, heartache and deep, deep loss.

Just becasue I have passed milestone after milestone, gathered bundles of new life and experience and found new love doesn’t mean that the loss doesn’t penetrate my life every day.

The hurt doesn’t get canceled out. The widow in me doesn’t go away.

Somedays the goodness of new life overwhelmss the sorrow.

And some days the loss overwhelms the goodness.

Easter Sunday was filled with sunshine, and reminders of the new life that I have gained. But as I sat in church listening to the Pastor speak of God’s endless love and His grace for us my heart ached. I couldn’t shake it.

The loss. The tremendous, unthinkable loss. Not just of my late husband but the life we had. The house, the pets, and because of a move shortly after my friends, family and all the familiarity from living in Salt Lake my entire life.

Now when I think of my loss I think of it as a whole. That life. Lost. The whole thing. Gone.

Sure I still have those people in my life, except for my late husband, but from a distance it feels like a loss. I am missing out on gatherings and holidays, milestones and celebrations.

I couldn’t help but have feelings of anger and the unfairness of it all saturated my soul. Still after all this time…why me?

As I sat there the hurt took over the good. It took over the new. The loss sat deep in my soul and made it self known in hot, wet tears. I dabbed my eyes as to not allow the pain to leak onto anyone else. I ached in silence. I didn’t need to. But sometimes pain is so deeply penetrated that it feels as though letting it out would cause more pain. I didn’t need sympathy. I didn’t need hugs. I just needed to simply sit in the unthinkable loss. I needed to allow this so that yet another layer of healing could start to form, another level of acceptance and another covering of God’s grace could grow over my wounded heart.

Although the pain eventually subsided the loss remains, pushed back into the recesses of my heart. Shaping and forming how I view the world, waiting for another opportunity to immerse from the abyss.

I am reminded in Jeremiah 29:11 that God has plans to prosper me not to harm me. I cling to this promise even when I struggle to understand. Because, Lord, this did hurt me. To my core.

But it didn’t destroy me. I didn’t take my life and it didn’t knock me down so hard that I couldn’t get up.

I have to trust that the Lord has a purpose in the pain. He allowed it for reasons I have yet to understand but I still trust.

I still hold tightly to this promise and replay in my mind all the times the Lord showed up with comfort, with peace. But it still hurts.

As I wiped my tears and lifted my head, I scanned the sunlit sancuary taking notice of not only the place God has brought me to but the people. The new family and friends that have filled those broken places. Not replacing what has been lost but added blessings. Blessings that only exist becasue of the loss.

I sat in the tension between loss and gain. Simultaneously feeling both. Tetering from sorrow to joy.

With God in the center holding me equally in both.

So today I relish in the new but appreciate the loss. I open my heart wider for the plans and blessing in my path while also preparing for grief and loss to make another visit.

Each visit deems me stronger in the Lord. I am only able to hold both because of Jesus and His love for me.

If you are in pain, today, let’s remember to take the good with the bad.

The sorrow with the joy and embrace the plans the Lord has for you.

It is all well worth the journey for the glorious victory that is ours in Jesus.

I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.

Jeremiah 29:11