A couple of weeks ago I went to my first wedding as a widower. Pam and I loved weddings, that special time when the love in the air is palpable, new covenants are being made before God and hope reigns supreme.
I thought back to my own wedding and to how my perspective has changed. My view of the horizon from a hot air balloon was different, much different, than the view from my sailboat, which is completely different than the horizon viewed from my own back yard. The view is altered by altitude, circumstance and surroundings. I’m not saying one is better, more useful or even more beautiful. Perspective relates to where you are, what you’re doing and where you’re headed. After all, aren’t the great ontological questions the ones that define who I am and what I’m doing here, aren’t these questions that nag all of us?
As I watched my nephew and his bride exchange vows on that beautiful day, I realized that I’m have a different perspective now than when Pam, a recent high school grad, and I, a college freshman, married. At that time I was not only aware of my responsibility to provide financially and emotionally for my wife and later family, I was also aware that I did not have two nickels to rub together. In fact, in most respects I was more keenly aware of this fact than I was the blessings and nurturing support that were to support me during the years that lie ahead. We were returning from a weekend honeymoon to a leased apartment filled with borrowed furniture and we were broke, but we were filled with hope.
Today I have lots of nickels in the form of homes, bank accounts and cars. What I don’t have, for the first time in decades, is a tangible person who causes me to look for perspective beyond myself, my day and my life, in short, I no longer have Pam, who for many decades was a primary influencer of my behavior.
So while on that day as a young groom when I saw myself as poor, I was in fact rich. And today, while many would consider me to be rich, I am quite poor, because of the truth, till death do us part.
Today I wish I had focused more upon developing the riches I already had on that day more than the focus I put in the ones that I lacked. It turns out, the riches I already had were much more precious than the financial ones we worked together to acquire.
When Pam was alive she affected most of my life; what I ate for dinner, when I chose to run an errand or what time I finished my workday are simple illustrations. All of those things were because my actions impacted her life and so they factored into my decisions. To be clear, God factors into my decisions as well, I may question if something I’m considering eating is healthy or not, but frankly I don’t think God cares much whether I choose Thai or Mexican for dinner tonight. I don’t think he cares if I dine in or carry out.
It is because of the lack of that relationship and dynamic that I say I am poor. As Job learned about the death and destruction that had just befallen him, he declared, “The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” Job 1:21b so, like Job, I am grateful for the 50 years we had together. I am grateful for the love and acceptance we had for each other, however, there is a sense in which this knowledge only magnifies the loss.
God has met me in this place and I am confident that he will continue to do so, meanwhile the process of grief is a reminder of the loss. It is a loss that leads to a certain, if not temporary, poverty of soul.
There is, however, a progression to this grief and it goes like this: my grief continues to give way to gratitude for what God has given me and that gratitude gives way to worship. Worship of the one whom my soul ultimately longs for.
Isn’t the Bible replete with this theme? God rescued Israel from Egypt for what purpose? To worship him in the desert. Jesus rescued his church for the same purpose.
So my words of encouragement to my young nephew and groom is this- drink in the richness of your soul and do not focus on what may seem like the financial poverty of these early days of marriage. The writer of Ecclesiastes tells us that all good things have their season. Drink this season in son, it will bring life and joy to your years. And while the grief that I describe is likely decades away, there will still be experiences of loss. Let your losses have their good work of bringing you to your alter of worship. Your life and your family will truly be richer for it.
Love you kids,
Uncle Brad