(I started to write this blog a few weeks ago. I think it is still pertinent.)
Another funeral! There’ve been so many this year, and it seems most leave a widow to cope with the loss. I’m one of those, since my husband died around a year ago.
I’ve learned something about grief in the past year:
Even though I’ve reconciled the fact that Paul has gone to heaven, and I’m happy about the fact he is not suffering anymore, there’s a sense in which I feel left behind, empty. Paul used to fill up my love tank and now I just feel empty. It’s not just a wishing he were here—I don’t really, because I don’t want him to have to be in the nursing home unable to walk or do anything but sit in a chair. But I feel empty. There is no one to fill my love tank. I greatly miss his hugs, but also just knowing he was there and that he accepted me completely, approved of me, and loved seeing me made me feel full, satisfied, important… like I had a purpose in living.
And what do I have now? I do have a purpose in living to do God’s will, but I feel I’m not good at it, when, indeed, I even know what it is. I feel so tired and like ‘what’s the use.’ Paul liked pretty much whatever I did and appreciated my taking care of him (before he entered the nursing home.)
I think trying to function on an empty love tank is what is making me feel so tired and sick. I guess the solution would be to go to the scriptures and memorize verses about God’s love. Perhaps these might help you, also:
For instance, Jesus said:
“The Father himself loves you,” (John 16:27)
“In this the love of God was manifested toward us; that God has sent his only begotten son into the world, that we might live through him. “(v.9)
“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.” Jn. 15:9
“I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.” (Jeremiah 31:3.)
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; When you walk through fire, you shall not be burned, …for I am the Lord your God, the holy one… you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you.”
These verses are a great comfort to me. (Also it helped that, on my 80th birthday, lots of people sent cards and phone calls with happy wishes.)
Here’s a song of Comfort written during one of my earlier griefs, when I sensed that Jesus was singing to me. It is published in my new book, titled Songs & Poems From a Yielded Heart.
Comfort: Jesus Sings to Me
Let me sing a song to you. Let me know if you are feeling blue.
Brush those tear away. Lift your eyes and pray.
I will be your friend, love you to the end.
For I came to save you from the tyranny of sin.
Give your heart to me. Life abundantly
is what I will give you when you come to me to set you free.