Through Him

 

I was raised by a Christian father who, though far from perfect, loved his family. I had a front row seat to his relationship with my mother and loved being his daughter. Through him I learned that I wanted to find a man like him in all the best ways.

I married my first and only boyfriend when I was 19 and spent 13 years growing up with him. Through him I learned that I was a valued (and treasured) partner and that life is unbelievably special when you adventure together...and when you love unconditionally.

A doctor met me one time and performed a dozen tests on my body. He was unkind and judgmental and his indifference made me cry in shame. Through him I learned that I might not ever be able to have children.

My only son was born after years of infertility. He never took a breath and his death took my entire life by storm. Through him I learned that joy and grief can exist side by side...even when, or especially when, it is hard to find the joy.

My father-in-law loved two children who were not his own just as much as he loved my husband. Through him I learned that genetics are often the least important part of being a parent.

A man in a brown sheriff's deputy uniform held my hand as I begged for answers that he could not give me. Through him I learned that the love of my life had died in a motorcycle accident at 32 years old.

My husband was killed by a man high on cocaine and 8 times the lethal dose of fentanyl. I attended his hearing and listened as he was sentenced to 34 years in prison. Through him I learned that forgiveness is a choice and often a brutal sacrifice. 

My brother took me under his wing and handled so many things after my husband, his best friend, died. He was the one who told everyone about his death. Through him I learned that bossy big brothers are often the safest places to land.

The first man who asked me on a date after John died stood me up. I drove over an hour to meet him and he just never showed up. Through him I learned that dating in your thirties was going to be so much harder than I imagined.

I told my other brother that I kissed a man other than John for the first time in my entire life...then I cried. He said "good for you". Through him I learned that maybe my family would be able to move through the ups and downs of "moving on" with me.

I know someone who left her husband after years of secret abuse. Through him I learned to be extra cautious about the men I allow into my life lest they turn out to be wolves in sheep’s clothing. 

My husband's other best friend consistently checked on me when I was deep in grief. I consider him and his family a part of mine. Through him I learned that the relationships my husband cultivated did not return void in the life he left behind. 

My baby nephew was named after my late husband. He was born with gorgeous red hair and is constantly full of smiles. Through him I learned that the legacy of my husband is not only carried in my heart but in the hearts of my family as well. 

A man I dated told me he loved me and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. And even though I didn't say it back (because I didn't feel the same) he promised me the world. Through him I learned that some people will say anything to tear down your walls before their own dysfunction causes them to cast those very same bricks at you.

12 months after my husband died I got a 4th dog. He was gulumphy and goofy and turned out to be huge. Through him I learned that I can do what I want just because I want to...its ok...it will be ok. 

As a child I was introduced to the God of the Bible. Over time the love and sacrifice of Jesus Christ became the driving force of my life. Through Him I learned of the greater purpose of my life. The call to and the plans for my sanctification, even amidst the suffering and the trials. Probably even particularly through those. Through Him I was called to something greater than myself. In the joy, in the pain, in the healing, in the hope. He has always been at the center of it all.

And through Him it has all been made good.