One Whole Week

I laid my husband to rest just two days ago after 34 years of being together. It is still surreal, but I'm still alive and that is something I never thought I'd say. I have such mixed emotions today. I'm SO happy he is no longer suffering in body. He had so many physical abnormalities he suffered after being electrocuted. The rest of the world never knew and some things he never shared with me. He was such a man of faith. He had walked in the river of life before and it took every bit of his faith and will power to stay here on planet earth afterwards. He would tell me that it was a continual struggle to keep from just going home. He even shared with his closest family in the Body of Christ that IF he ever saw the light again he would not come back. Again because he is no longer suffering I am blessed he went home. Of course I'm sad that I shall never feel his arms around me, I will never feel his tender kisses, his firm but loving correction, his honest laughter or a million other things we shared on a daily basis.

I have been surrounded by the love of my friends and the Body of Christ to see me through these early days of my widowhood. Calling myself a widow is also so surreal. I used to write a newsletter on my website called, "The Widow's Might". I always felt a sense of dread when I wrote it and prayed I would never know the sorrow of the woman left behind by her husband.

My husband was also a modern day apostle and did things that put him in harm's way on a regular basis. In the back of my mind there was always the knowledge that he might not come back from the places he went. Many of those he sought to evangelize feared and even hated him. He had been thrown in jail and threatened many times. He had been taken to places where his haters attempted to kill him, but they were never able to even harm a hair of his head. Each time he would return I would sigh a huge sigh of relief and breath again for another month. When he finally shook the dust from his feet the last time, I was hilariously happy because he was in "less" danger than he had been.

The physical weakness of his body was never very apparent to others, but I was normally pretty conscious of when he was in pain or when other symptoms would make his living a struggle. After having his body cooked from electrocution his ankles were fused, his knees were fused and his hips were affected. In the days immediately following that fateful day when he stuck his hand in 19,600 volts and 600 amps of electricity he suffered hallucinations and many other horrific things. We walked through each one a day at a time. He never would submit to modern medicine, but chose instead to go to the word of God for his answers. It saw him through 17 years of life and I am pretty sure he thought it would go that way this time as well. The only difference is that he was weary of the road and the sickness that came on him was devastating and sudden.

It has been a week since he slumped over on the sofa and I spent 30 minutes attempting to revive him using CPR. It's been a week since I screamed at him to "live and not die and declare the works of the Lord". It's been a week since I watched the EMT's take him away in an ambulance. It's been a week since the Sheriff's came and questioned me about his death. It's been a week since I went to the hospital to see his body still on the examining table. It's been a week since I called his mother and told her he was gone. It's been a week since our friends surrounded me with loving arms and wept in disbelief that this strong man was gone. It's been a week since the life I've known for so long was suddenly upended and changed.

I'm alive and breathing. I'm forcing myself to think about my life without him. I know I will go on but "Oh God" do I ache for things to be the way they were.

Today is the beginning of another week. I wonder where I will be in seven more days?