Tuesday, November 13, 2012


I've been away for a lovely weekend with the family.  I am blessed beyond measure, but glad to be home.  And anxious to write!!

What can I say about the spattering of thoughts and emotions that have crowded my mind and heart in these last several days.  I think in particular, I have meditated on Romans 12:15, Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.

Being a widow is unique.  I am not divorced, or separated, or single... I am widowed.  Re-entering society as a widow is not easy.

In all of my relationships, all of my comings and goings, there is a disconcerting awkwardness.  No one knows what to say or how to be.  I don't know what to say or how to be.  I am committed to honesty, but find myself in all kinds of situations when I think, How can I be honest without making this person feel uncomfortable?  How can I be real without breaking out into sobs that make me feel embarrassed and everyone around me awkward?  How can I tell this person how I really feel when they have no way to relate to me and don't understand what I'm going through?  How can I show people that I'm still here, but cannot hide or avoid the fact that the man I love is dead and I miss him more than I could ever say?

Sometimes, no one talks about it, and I want to scream.  Don't you know my heart?  Don't you know that my husband died?  Not talking about it makes me feel like its taboo, inappropriate, too awkward for others.  It makes me feel like people want to gloss over it as though he never existed.  This causes me tremendous pain.

Other times, all people want to do is talk about my grief.  I get tired of talking about it.  Exhausted by it, and sometimes long for something light and unrelated!

Still others might approach me with pity.  All they see is this poor broken widow.  Oh dear, isn't that awful?  You poor precious thing.  Well, we just can't believe it.  Etc.  This makes me stand up a little straighter and want to hold my head up high.  We're fine.  We do not need to be defined by our grief.  We do not need your pity.

Inevitably, I find myself in the presence of many happy families, loving relationships, smiling children, and solid marriages.  This is a joyful experience that cuts deep with a bitter sword.  There is no way around it.  It hurts.  Yet, I would want nothing less for these people, these families.  Be blessed!  Cherish your loved ones more deeply than you've ever done before!! and despite each others imperfections!!

As a society, culture, or community... How do we rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep?  How do we get beyond the awkwardness, the elephant in the room sensation, or the inability to relate to someone else's struggle?  I have concluded that it is not easily done and trying often wears me out.

This is messy.  Grief is messy.  I am messy.  The grief and apathy and depression would keep me locked away in my bedroom, content to grieve alone... But you've all been there.  You're all trying to be there for me.  I am needy of your graciousness and have been so blessed by your generosity.

I am working hard to do this in a healthy way, as awkward and messy as it may be.  Someday, my grief will be turned to joy (Jn 16:20) and smiling will come a little more easily...


  1. Even messy can be beautiful to the Lord...for we see the pieces but He sees the picture in completion...A beautiful mess :D

  2. Natasha,

    You are doing well to sort through these emotions. Remember that you are a widow, but that does not define who you are.

    You are more than a widow. You are a daughter, a mother, a child of the most high and you are a fantastic young woman with a bright future ahead of you. And you are a really good singer :)

    Here is something that I learned during my divorce that helped me to overcome some of the traps that wanted to keep me stagnated in my grief:

    You have no control over what people think, say or do. But when you care about what people think/say/do, you are allowing that to control you.

    Once you accept that the only thing you can control is yourself and how you respond to people, you will eventually stop caring what people think. And you will be free to live your life without the feeling of needing to "pull it together" or worrying about whether it is okay to talk about your loss.

    You are human. You have just experienced a great loss. Lynn was a wonderful man of God and is an inspiration to many.

    Right now, it is too painful to be able to embrace the reality of your situation fully. I lived in denial for a super long time. It helped me cope for a period of time while I got my bearings back.

    Christ will help you to overcome the feelings of hopelessness, despair, loneliness as you (over time) continue to come to grips with what has happened and as you continue to surrender your situation to Christ.

    Remember that you have people that love you and that you are never alone. Christ has not forgotten you and he is grieving along with you.
    You are doing great! You just keep hanging in there. This is only a season. Lynn will always live in your heart and mind. And one day you will be reunited in Glory, oh what a day that will be :)

    Your brother in Christ,


  3. Natasha, as you feel comfortable, I would love for you to have a listen to the song "Beautiful Things" by Gungor. It's one of those songs that asks those wondering questions in the midst of a journey, "I wonder, will I ever find my way?" "Could a garden come up from this ground at all?" But in the end, the truth comes forward: "You make beautiful things out of us."

    This is a tough and agonizing journey, and I don't think anyone can understand what you're going through, unless they've been there themselves. And it will be awkward, and it will be messy, just like you said. But regardless, those who love you will remain here with you through the journey, for that very reason: we love you! :)

    Thank you for continuing to share your heart. xoxo

  4. Hey Natasha,

    I can relate to the awkwardness that you described. When I would run into someone during the first few weeks/months after my son died, it was often awkward. People didn't know what to say. If they didn't acknowledge my loss, and acted as if nothing happened, it was extremely hurtful. But if the person did give me a hug and acknowledge my loss I would usually burst into tears-- because I was so thankful that they remembered him and cared enough to recognize that I was hurting. But I knew my tears made them feel awkward, so I felt bad. So I understand where you are coming from in that respect. Our society seems to want to avoid grief and sweep it under the rug. I wish our culture embraced the grieving process more openly.

    And another thing that was extremely hurtful was if someone compared my loss to that of their dog/cat/fish. One time someone told my husband that they understood what he was going through because they lost their pet fish. No joke! That was soooo hurtful! I hope this doesn't happen to you!

    I am thinking of you and praying for you. And I've enjoyed reading your thoughts as you grieve. Thanks for being so open!

    ~Wanda Cummings