Three-Hundred Fifty Nine Days

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

The verse above was the theme for a women's group event at our church several years ago. I was asked to speak at that event and the verse spoke to me like none other had. 

So much so that I decided to use that verse reference to sign my books. At that time, I didn't know I would meet the wonderful man I'm now married to--all 359 days of wonderfulness! At that time, I was recovering from a broken engagement, thinking perhaps I'd never marry again. 

Yet life has it's twists and turns for indeed, I did meet the man of my dreams. That doesn't take away from my previous husbands. For in their time, they too, were the "man of my dreams". That's why it was hard to believe I'd meet and love again like I did. 

This week and next, we're on a trip, celebrating our first anniversary. It's so hard to believe it has been nearly a year, but it is. Just this morning, Jim suggested for our devotions we have each morning,  to read a verse. He picked it. Guess what it was? Yes! It was the above verse!!

I want to say, dear reader, that the God of hope spoken above was the same God who filled me with all joy, peace, and hope. When I was widowed and when my engagement was broken off. When I was recovered from that loss and I was trying to be content alone. 

In my case, God answered my desires for a husband. He may not do that for you. You might be in a difficult marriage. You may have never been married. Perhaps you're divorced and didn't want to be in that state. This verse is for each of you. Take it as your own. And enjoy the overflowing hope the Holy Spirit gives you. 

I am certainly going to do that. I don't know what's around the next bend. But right now, on this anniversary trip, I will enjoy the state I'm in. And acknowledge it was the God of Hope who brought my Jim to me.

On a different trip at Epcot Center

Old Hymns and Thanksgiving too

Thanksgiving Day. 2005. It was the last Thanksgiving where all of the Bill Rudberg clan celebrated that holiday with Bill. But we really weren't together, for Bill was in the hospital....It was November 21, 2005....

On November 21, our grandson Caleb's fifth birthday, Bill was admitted to the hospital. The hours crawled by. We hardly knew what day it was, when two familiar faces appeared at the door to the hospital room. "Thought you needed a real holiday meal," grinned Erika, as she and Bill's mom brought in a steaming basket filled with turkey and all the fixings from their Thanksgiving dinner. 

On Saturday morning the female hospital chaplain prayed with us and read Scripture. I wept as she read and prayed. "Our Father, please help Bill and Shirley as they cope with this illness. Be their strength and song during this difficult time."

...I sat by his bedside while my husband slept. I felt the darkness of the room closing in around me, as despair clenched my heart. Then, note by note, I caught the sounds of singing.

Precious Lord, take my hand.

Lead me on, through the night.

I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;

Thro' the storm, thro' the night,

Lead me on to the light--

Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.

The rich alto voice continued to lift old hymns. I stood, amazed, and followed the songs down the hall. A few doors down, I glanced into a darkened room and saw a black woman, wearing a black and white dress, sitting in a bedside chair.

She would never know the comfort she gave a neighbor that evening. I tiptoed back to Bill's room, knowing I was not alone......

May your Thanksgiving Day be filled with wonder and hope, as mine was that day nine years ago.

(Excerpt from Second Chances, At Life and Love, With Hope, c 2012, Shirley Rudberg Graybill)

Grieving Life

Last weekend Jim and I attended a marriage conference at Cannon Beach. I wondered if we'd be the oldest couple married the least amount of time. We weren't the oldest, for there was a couple married 63 years--and this was their first ever marriage conference! There was a couple--considerably younger than us--who were married only four months. 

At the conference, there was a lot we'd heard before. There were new concepts to learn. One was: "We're grieving life." 

"That's depressing one might say." No. Since Adam and Eve chose to disobey, there's been a grief of what might have been. 

I was feeling sad. Because I was a nearly one year bride? No. I was sad because of what might have been. I wished I'd had some of the tools we were given at this conference when I was a nineteen year old bride. I wished I'd had them when I was a thirty-something woman who was in a dysfunctional marriage that might have better with some of these tools. But that was not to be. 

I remember the first time I suffered grief when I should have been happy. I was walking down the aisle, after being pronounced "wife" to my late husband, Bill. Why was I sad? I couldn't put my finger on it and soon the sadness passed. Later, I read having those feelings of grief were natural. I was grieving my life as it was. Now I was moving into a new life. It was wonderful. But it was new. And that's grief.

I've found there are many types of grief. The stark grief of losing someone in death. The lesser grief of a broken engagement. The grief of an empty nest. The grief of time, slipping away. The grief of realizing there'll not be anymore new grand babies, just great-grandbabies. The grief of a beautiful scene.

I'm glad I attended the seminar. I love my life. My husband. But.....there's still that niggling, lost feeling that wiggles its way into my being. Grief. 

When we go to Heaven, we'll not experience grief anymore. That is a gift I'm looking forward to. Just not yet.