Sunday, October 16, 2016

No Man Is Alone Who Has God~

While I was never one to watch westerns,
(unless of course my Daddy was
and I could climb up in his chair, sit next to him
and pretend I was watching, too)
I always felt a connection with
The Lone Ranger and Tonto.

No, it wasn't the mask the Lone Ranger wore.

Anyone who knows me even the teeniest bit,
knows I don't like masks.
I like to see exactly who it is I am dealing with.
Santa - nope.
Clowns - nope.
Show me your face, your real face, all of it -  and we can talk.

And no, it wasn't even what the Lone Ranger did,
riding around
helping who ever needed help,
always coming to the rescue
(as wonderful and admirable as that is).

I liked the Lone Ranger because
he was,
the Lone Ranger.
His name said it all.

And while I can't claim to be the Lone Ranger,
I can certainly claim to be a loner.

I don't need a huge circle of friends.
I don't need a calendar filled with social events.
Give me one friend, and I'm good.
It's the way I prefer to do life.

One good friend.
Or, in my case, one very good friend who was also my husband.
Even the Lone Ranger had one friend, Tonto.

But, what happens when you lose your Tonto?

I think for us Lone Ranger types,
death of our Tonto,
takes grief to a whole new level.

Because you see,
as long as we have our one friend,
our life is full.

But, minus our one friend,
our life becomes extremely empty.

People on the outside looking in
might give us a quick up and down glance
and jump to the conclusion
that we aren't doing well,
that we aren't handling our grief in an appropriate way,
that we aren't our old usual self,
and yet they never stop to realize or understand
that we didn't just lose someone
we lost the one who brought the some into our world.

There is a difference,
a huge difference.

Losing my father was nothing like losing my husband
because when I lost my father I still had my husband.

Losing my father was nothing like losing my husband
because I still I had my best friend to
sit with,
walk with,
sleep with,
cook with,
dream with,
pray with,
cry with,
do life with.

This is different.

It's not the end of the world,
it's just the end of my world as I knew it and lived it every day.

And, it takes some time to adjust to that.

And, I often wonder how others would do in my place.

And, of course, no one truly knows
what another is going through,
what another feels,
what another has lost because
no two people love alike,
no two people feel alike,
no two people give of their hearts alike,
no two people experience loving and living and losing alike.

Death is hard.
It leaves its mark.

But, when death comes to your one and only friend,
death touches everything,
. . . at least everything here in the physical world.

Thankfully, (Glory, Hallelujah!)
the one thing death can never touch,
is that which is of God.

And while my husband and I might have looked like a couple,
we were actually a trio, -
united heart to heart with each other, yes,
but also with our Heavenly Father.

A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated,
but two can stand back-to-back and conquer.
Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord in not easily broken.
~Ecclesiastes 4:12

Together, we were a triple-braided cord,
and while my husband is no longer here,
I rejoice that my God still is.

He is the one thing death can't take from me.

So, yes,
this Lone Ranger is missing her Tonto,
and yes,
this Lone Ranger feels so alone in the physical realm of life,
but,
when it comes to being alone in the spiritual realm,
praise God,
I can't even being to imagine how that feels
because my God is here.

24 - 7.

And, maybe this relationship,
the relationship between a child of God and his or her Heavenly Father
is something no one else can truly know, either.

For just as the love between a husband and wife
is uniquely and holy matrimonially theirs,
so is the love relationship between God and each and every person.

And maybe this is why,
people on the outside looking in
might give you and I a quick up and down glance
and jump to the conclusion
that we aren't doing well,
that we aren't handling our grief in an appropriate way,
that we aren't our old usual self,
simply because they
never stop to realize or truly understand
that we don't just have God,
we have the God who is our whole world.

There is a difference,
a huge difference.

At least in my case there is,
and for this,
I bow my head and give thanks.










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1 comment:

  1. Thank you so much for this. You wrote what is in my heart.

    Susan

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for leaving a "heartprint" of your own.