JOY COMES IN THE MOURNING
T. Wieland Allen
As I lay here in bed minus my partner of 55 years I have a strange feeling that the past two years of cancer consciousness has been just a bad dream and that he will come in the bedroom door at any minute and get ready for bed.
I know that it hasn't been a bad dream but it was real, two years of grueling tests and bad reports and blood transfusions and chemotherapy and radiation and those always present doctors' appointments.
The thought comes that he is finally off of that horrible, never-ending hamster wheel that went no where, only back to the same dreaded scenario again and again.
He was constantly nauseous, weak and sick. I was always emotionally, physically and spiritually exhausted.
Care giving is endless when a person's mate is forever seeking for a cure or just maybe some relief from the hopelessness that comes from a rare form of the dreaded disease.
The empty bed and the empty house speak loudly of loneliness, but even the fleeting thoughts of wishing that he was present with me are rejected because he would surely be back in the hospital bed trying to make himself eat something to please me or drink some small sips of liquid which would cause him to again cough up clods of mucous that constantly plagued him. That horrible memory makes me glad that he has left the prison of his diseased body which was at one time so physically fit, the picture of a healthy, handsome, virile athlete who loved life.
I dry my tears and thank God that the nightmare is over for both of us and he is enjoying the love, rest and comfort of the cocoon that God so graciously showed him in a dream. He is free from the disease and free from misery and free from the feeling of failure because he wasn't healed. He is free and I am also free from watching his misery and then having my own inherited misery that came from the unity that 55 years of togetherness affords.
Like a savior, joy comes and lifts me out of the loneliness and the sense of abandonment that so quickly invaded my mind tonight.
Joy is healing, like the Savior from which it comes, soothing my mind and drying my tears just like God promises. God said he would make treasures out of my tears. Tonight I momentarily contributed some more salty ingredients necessary for Him to fashion those treasures.
Yes, the joy that comes from God is strength and stability. And it always comes just in time, turning mourning into gladness.
Looking forward to God's promised treasures will be exciting, leaving the past behind and reaching forward to the high calling. He said to reach forward and that means to extend our open hands in eager anticipation of the treasures that He has fashioned for us out of the tears of misery because we trusted in Him. Reaching, reaching, reaching -- we can't reach forward if we are looking backward. We might miss a wonderful treasure.
Joy does come in the morning to those who were mourning but mourn no more.
Thanks be to God.
T. Wieland Allen
As I lay here in bed minus my partner of 55 years I have a strange feeling that the past two years of cancer consciousness has been just a bad dream and that he will come in the bedroom door at any minute and get ready for bed.
I know that it hasn't been a bad dream but it was real, two years of grueling tests and bad reports and blood transfusions and chemotherapy and radiation and those always present doctors' appointments.
The thought comes that he is finally off of that horrible, never-ending hamster wheel that went no where, only back to the same dreaded scenario again and again.
He was constantly nauseous, weak and sick. I was always emotionally, physically and spiritually exhausted.
Care giving is endless when a person's mate is forever seeking for a cure or just maybe some relief from the hopelessness that comes from a rare form of the dreaded disease.
The empty bed and the empty house speak loudly of loneliness, but even the fleeting thoughts of wishing that he was present with me are rejected because he would surely be back in the hospital bed trying to make himself eat something to please me or drink some small sips of liquid which would cause him to again cough up clods of mucous that constantly plagued him. That horrible memory makes me glad that he has left the prison of his diseased body which was at one time so physically fit, the picture of a healthy, handsome, virile athlete who loved life.
I dry my tears and thank God that the nightmare is over for both of us and he is enjoying the love, rest and comfort of the cocoon that God so graciously showed him in a dream. He is free from the disease and free from misery and free from the feeling of failure because he wasn't healed. He is free and I am also free from watching his misery and then having my own inherited misery that came from the unity that 55 years of togetherness affords.
Like a savior, joy comes and lifts me out of the loneliness and the sense of abandonment that so quickly invaded my mind tonight.
Joy is healing, like the Savior from which it comes, soothing my mind and drying my tears just like God promises. God said he would make treasures out of my tears. Tonight I momentarily contributed some more salty ingredients necessary for Him to fashion those treasures.
Yes, the joy that comes from God is strength and stability. And it always comes just in time, turning mourning into gladness.
Looking forward to God's promised treasures will be exciting, leaving the past behind and reaching forward to the high calling. He said to reach forward and that means to extend our open hands in eager anticipation of the treasures that He has fashioned for us out of the tears of misery because we trusted in Him. Reaching, reaching, reaching -- we can't reach forward if we are looking backward. We might miss a wonderful treasure.
Joy does come in the morning to those who were mourning but mourn no more.
Thanks be to God.
