Perhaps it’s because we are approaching the shortest day of the year, but the evenings seem excessively long and lonely. While I am discovering many advantages to living alone, the house sometimes feels achingly empty. I miss him. God, but I miss him. However, instead of focusing on what’s no more, I am determined to meet the challenge of this new life I’ve been given, praying only for the serenity to accept the things I can’t change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
It’s been said that “Beautiful light is born of darkness, so the faith that is born from conflict is often the strongest and best.” That sums up these past months. I, at least, learn best from dealing with conflict and stressful situations. Those of us who have lived long enough have discovered for ourselves that a truly nurturing faith doesn’t come from gaining power, prestige, or possessions. A faith born of suffering and challenge is a faith rooted from accepting the divine paradox: it is by losing that we win and by letting go that we receive.
It took my husband’s dying to make me appreciate the truly good life we had. It is so easy to take something, someone for granted, It was the tough times, rubbing against his stubbornness, his all too frequent “no’s,” our family addictions and illness, that helped me develop a greater sense of self, the determination to pursue my path while respecting our family’s needs, that I was able to gain the awareness of what was truly important: loving and being loved. Looking back, the times of greatest friction and struggle were also the times of greatest growth and insight. Those were the times our combined determination to honor our marriage vows and each other motivated us to find ways to honor our differences and find better ways to meet our individual differences and needs. Ours was definitely not a fairy tale marriage. There were times of togetherness and times of anger and aching separateness. We were like two jagged stones having a mountain stream smooth away our rough edges.
Looking back, I wouldn’t have it any other way. We learned so much from each other. We helped each other grow and face times of darkness. We discovered that love is more than romance. Beautiful light was born of our times of conflict, and the faith that helped him embrace his death and continues to sustain me, was the gift of our shared conflicts and challenges.
Joyce Shutt is the author of Steps to Hope and is a veteran 12 stepper.