Still in the Valley: Musings of a Recent Widow

Editor’s note: This article is taken from Joel’s sister Rebecca Thomas’s September 19, 2022 update posted on her husband Joshua’s Caring Bridge webpage. Joshua passed away on September 1 after a brief, but painfully intense, battle with colon cancer. I was much blessed by her transparent sharing for it enables me to more genuinely enter into my Scriptural duty to “weep with those who weep” (Rom 12:15). Joel’s letter gives a few of his own reflections about this difficult family loss. Scripture warns that, “The heart of the wise [is] in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools [is] in the house of joy and gladness. …for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” (Ecc 7:4, 2) We trust that these raw reflections will stir up in you a more focused vision for treasuring God’s design for your family – which requires us to reflect on the ultimate purpose in life – which lies fully in our going home to heaven to be with God forever! The poem at the end of the Developer is my first reflection enabled by Rebecca’s sharing. May God bless us all to live in light of eternity! Incidentally, today, September 22, is Joshua and Rebecca’s 21st Anniversary. “Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house, he would be utterly despised." Song of Solomon 8:6-7 Twenty-one years ago, this coming Thursday, these words were sung at our wedding. Although we thought we understood them, (being so mature and experienced), I see now that we did not.

To live within this depth of love is knowledge; to be separated from this depth of love is genuine understanding. Honestly, I could do without this level of understanding. These first nineteen days of separation are rather indescribable, and while I might be inclined to believe that there is no one else in the world who has ever felt as I do now, I am not so ignorant. Indeed, while the incredible depth of relationship Joshua and I have enjoyed has been a valuable gift, it is certainly not unique to mankind. Many have received this gift and many have suffered at its loss. What is unique, however, is the gift itself--and the unique, personal impact of the loss. While risking sentiment where sentiment is not required, I might tell you of the mutual treasure Joshua and I held in each other, of the daily affirmations of this truth, of the desire to be with each other more than anyone else in the world. I might suggest that the highlight of each day, after being apart, was the simple joy of being re-united. Maybe it goes without saying that we have known one another so well that we understood each other's thoughts without a word spoken, could anticipate actions based upon a look, shared responsibilities without discussion. We have enjoyed the innate blessings of needing and being needed, missing and being missed, thinking of and being thought of, desiring and being desired. Twenty-one years has not dulled the mutual joy, admiration, and value we have placed in each other--a present that has never lost its sparkle. Best friends, teammates, soulmates...

Its flashes are flashes of fire... Thus, I am perplexed by the coolness of the coals and yet the burning emptiness in my heart. Half of me is gone. Life has lost its zeal. I wonder what there is to look forward to... However... I did not write these words for the purpose of bemoaning the reality of my situation. But rather, to provide a backdrop to the words I would like to share with you next. Many weeks ago, in a dark moment of a very dark night, Joshua and I found ourselves crying out to the Lord in both praise and anguish, "Please take us out of this valley..." And so, God took Joshua out, but He left me in. Why, O Lord?

"Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept thy word. Thou art good, and doest good; teach me thy statutes. It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes. I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me. Let, I pray thee, thy merciful kindness be for my comfort, according to thy word unto thy servant. Let thy tender mercies come unto me, that I may live: for thy law is my delight." Psalm 119:67-68, 71, 75-77

In considering my weaknesses, I have begun to see answers in the faithfulness of God's affliction. In His goodness, He also shows me a part of Himself that I have never before seen so clearly--His lovingkindness and tender mercies. Thus, in the midst of my pain, I find comfort. In the midst of my instability, I find the solid rock of His Word.

There are moments of intense despair; But God takes all that I cast upon Him. (Psalm 55:4-6, 22)

There are minutes of physically paralyzing panic, as though buried under wave after wave, unable to escape from my own self; But God strengthens my failing body and heart when I keep my mind on Him. (Psalm 73:26, Psalm 37:24, Isaiah 26:3)

I'm flooded with depression when I consider the vast sea of time ahead of me, alone; But God gently reminds me that our time on earth is short, to be redeemed through purpose and service to Him. (Psalm 90:10, 12)

I wrestle with feelings of resentment--with being forgotten and left behind; But God says to turn aside from lies and think on things that are true. (Psalm 40:4 and Philippians 4:8)

I wrestle with feelings of inferiority and rejection; But Jesus reminds me that He has chosen me in the "furnace of affliction," that I might become the praise and glory of Christ. (Isaiah 48:10 and 1 Peter 1:7)

I feel the movements of this unborn baby and see ten sets of eyes upon me and I am overwhelmed; But Jesus invites me to welcome His strength and wisdom--with the promise of our children being taught by Him. (Psalm 61:2 and Isaiah 54:13)

I am often overcome with being alone; But Jesus says, "I am here." (Hebrews 13:5)

There are countless hours of sorrow and weeping; But Jesus turns my anguish into hope and peace when I choose to praise Him. (Psalm 42:5; 71:14; 104:34)

Deep is the longing to be held in that familiar embrace; But Jesus offers His everlasting arms. (Deuteronomy 33:27)

And such is my journey nineteen days into a new season of life. A season I did not plan or expect for, oh, about 30-40 more years.

This is not the future I envisioned; But God has known it all along and I will trust Him.

This is not the story I wanted; But God is the Author and hasn't finished it yet.

But God.

Joshua has been amazingly faithful to surrender to and recognize God's work in his life. He is forever my hero. I pray I can be more like him when I grow up.

By the way, Joshua' story is not finished yet. He is alive and well. I find it tremendously comforting to consider this: Jesus sees, hears and is with Joshua right now. Jesus sees, hears and is with me right now. Because Jesus is our mutual Best Friend, He is the Bridge between us. And because Scripture tells us that those on heaven-side are talking to and praising Jesus, I find it an incredible joy to know that when I engage in prayer and praise, I am joining Joshua in a shared activity. Our relationship is not over, merely interrupted. He is not lost, just living elsewhere. Truly, there is great hope for all those who know Christ as Savior!