Joy in the Mourning

Four years ago today was one of the worst days of my life.  And I know without a doubt that, no matter how long I live, no matter what other experiences I encounter, it will remain one of the worst days of my life. You see, four years ago, I was told my husband would die.  Soon.  That there was no hope, no cure, no saving him or extending his life or improving the quality of what time he had left.  Terminal.

Worst. Day. Ever.  Up to that point.  There were other excruciating days, weeks, and months that followed, obviously.   But the news we heard and the discussions we had, with doctors, extended family, and between the two of us were nothing short of heart-wrenching.

At a time like that, there is NOTHING anyone can say or do to "make it better."  Nothing can take away the pain.  Nothing can dull the senses enough.  Nothing can remove the fear, the nausea. And there aren't enough tissues to soak up the tears.  There aren't enough glasses to shatter in the rage and anger.  There's just not enough of anything.  Not enough time. Not enough technology.  Not enough surgery, modern medicine, or answers.

But there's enough God.  I do not say that lightly.  Tears stream down my face as I right this, recalling the absolute anguish of that day.  But God was enough.  He is bigger than any doubt, fear, hatred, anger, or question.  He wrapped Nathan and I both in His Fatherly arms.  He held us as a couple.  He held as individuals.  He understood, much more than even we could, that this was a strange journey.  It was a journey completely together and completely alone.  I could not imagine the uncertainty, physical pain, side effects, fear, peace, joy, and everything else that Nathan faced in knowing he had terminal cancer.  And he could not imagine (which he admitted) the fear of the unknown in caring for a spouse that is terminally ill, the agony of helplessness, the loneliness of the aftermath.

Yet God held us, walked with us, and gave us both inexplicable peace, strength, and joy in our journeys.  Not all the time.  Neither of us were happy with the cruel lot we were dealt.  But God never abandoned us.  He never allowed us to both be completely shattered in the same moment.  He always, ALWAYS gave to at least one of us, enough strength to get through the moment; to not surrender.  He surrounded us with loving people - family, friends, nurses, doctors, strangers who lifted us up.

We mourned together that day.  We mourned individually that day.  And we mourned together for the next almost four months.  But we took care of Business.  Nathan finished the race set before him.  We made sure nothing was left unsaid or undone.  And we made sure we still found joy, happiness, and laughter when we could.

I know the Bible says, "Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning." (Ps 30:5b)  I'm here to tell you, Joy also comes in the Mourning.