June 25th, 2023

I used to love to read.

I’d get caught up in a story and my amazing husband would get aggravated with me because he would want to do something in real life while I was caught up in something fictional and I’d be like “Okay, yes, I know…but just let me finish this chapter, please…I CAN’T stop here…”

I really loved to read.

And now I just can’t love it.

I’ve changed books multiple times. I’ve looked up “books you’ll love if you enjoyed _ (insert name of other book that had captivated me here.)” I’ve started and stopped and started and stopped. Nothing works.

Food is like that, too. I’ve found it somewhat amusing (I guess maybe that’s the word for it) that many of the things that have caused me to nearly have full-on breakdowns have been various food items. Scott and I were definitely foodies so meals took up a good bit of our thoughts and conversations. When we traveled, we used to look up “Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives” to see if they had featured any restaurants in the area where we were visiting and try to go there. My #1 favorite place to go in Miami was Atelier Monnier French Bakery. I’d get an almond croissant (it doesn’t just have almonds on it and in it, it’s a whole experience all its own) and Scott would get a chocolate covered one.

Now food doesn’t taste the same. I don’t long to try fun and exciting cuisine like I used to. My mouth doesn’t water just thinking about…well, anything. I have to force myself to eat a piece of bread with peanut butter just to throw down some protein so that I won’t feel faint…usually after I start feeling faint. And that’s just because I literally don’t think about food until then.

It often feels like the “life” has gone out of life.

I’ve wanted to go to Heaven for a long time. I wasn’t in a rush to get there or anything. I enjoyed being here most times and was (and am) thankful for all that I have here. But I knew that was where I wanted to be after all of this. Before Scott came along, my boys were my Heaven on Earth. They were what tethered me here. Once Scott showed up, he was a big part of that thing that almost felt like Heaven here. I know real Heaven will be so much greater but it’s the closest I could imagine with my human mind. In fact, he made me feel like he’d been what was missing all along. My Missing Piece (a’la Shel Silverstein…if you haven’t read it, you should.)

As I felt the boys doing what we teach kids to do, becoming independent of me, Scott showed me that I was still going to be okay here when they all learned to fly from my cozy nest. I always knew I’d still have my baby boys but I also knew how different life was going to be without the continuity of raising them. Without the busyness of parenthood. Scott got me excited about what the future looked like. We were LOVING having a granddaughter and looking forward to the next one coming. We had BIG plans for what grandparenting would look like but also big plans for so many other things.

There is still a payment plan sitting around waiting for funds to be added again for our belated honeymoon next year. We were going on an all-inclusive vacation out of the country and we were counting down to it. I haven’t even asked yet if they’ll return the money we’ve already sent. I just can’t. That will mean it’s really cancelled. And I don’t want to go but I can’t bring myself to call and cancel it either.

So many of the things I used to want to do, they just don’t hold any spark anymore. They don’t hold joy. I still love being a Lolly (a grandmother) but it is bittersweet so often because he should have been here doing it with me. Lillian and Emory will never even remember him.

God intends for all of us to live abundant lives. John 10:10 says “The thief comes only in order to steal and kill and destroy. I [Jesus] came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance (to the full, till it overflows.)” The thief is the enemy. And he did steal, kill, and destroy successfully. All of it.

But God is still here. He is successful, always, in His own endeavors. Revelation 1:8 says “I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End,” says the Lord, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty One.” He was, and is, and is to come. He was here when I was happy. He is here while I mourn. He will be here, with me, until it is time for me to go to Him and worship Him “in person,” and then the bonus plan is that I can see Scott, too.

But God’s desire for me 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 is that my joy may be complete. “I have told you these things, that My joy and delight may be in you, and that your joy and gladness may be of full measure and complete and overflowing.” (John 15:11)

Scott isn’t here anymore, but that doesn’t mean that my joy cannot be complete. (Side note: I worship Jesus; I do not worship Scott as my husband…although I was extremely fond of him. Jesus makes my joy complete. What I mean here is that, without following the plan that God had for my life, my joy would not have been complete, lest anyone misconstrue my intent.) If I had never met Scott (as God designed) then my joy would not have been complete. He was part of God’s plan for my life. I cannot imagine the last ten years of my life without him and, even through the pain of losing him, I’d never want to. Even if I’d known I’d lose him, I would never want to have missed out on what he brought into my life. But even now that he is gone, I will still have joy.

Ephesians 3:20 says “Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us,” God has a plan to give us exceedingly abundantly MORE than we ask or think…and, before I met him, I had given up on finding anyone like Scott in my life. God brought me that joy anyway. (And understand that you can have JOY while not actually feeling happy…but that’s another story for another day. And that’s why I say it’s still possible without Scott here.)

For today…it’s after midnight so it is already Sunday, the Lord’s day…I will be grateful for my joy. Our children are part of my joy. Our grandchildren are part of my joy. Scott was part of my joy. And somehow, although I cannot see a glimmer of it yet, my future on this Earth is part of my joy.