"Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God... Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear." --Hebrews 12:1-2, 28 (NKJV)
Dearest Tom,
I wanted to make my last verse dedicated to you. I think of you every time I read vv. 1 and 2, and it gives me such hope. It helps me endure the long days as they spread out before me, here without you, knowing that I am surrounded by you and others who love me and cheer me on, praying encouragement and strength over me.
Over this last year I really hope you have been saying extra prayers for me. I hope that God has allowed you to peek into my heart, and then again, I don't. The saying that "time heals all" has felt more like a cruel joke than words of wisdom. This year has been harder than any other since you died. The longer we are apart, the harder I struggle. So many times I feel myself falling, feeling so lost and out of sorts. I went through such a dark time, a season in which past hurts were choking out my happy memories of you like wild, bristly thistles in a delicate herb garden. Just when I am ready and willing to move on, I come across baggage like this that dashes my faith and my hope. As I wrote those letters where I was supposed to be forgiving you of being some inconsiderate person, I realized my own depravity, my own sinfulness against you and realized how desperately I needed your words of forgiveness.
As I sat there in the blazing Texas heat with my hand over where yours would be, six feet underneath me in white cotton gloves, my mind raced through a rolodex of memories we made. I remembered the song being played in the hangar as you were the last man in the door at the redeployment ceremony in FT Riley, and the travel-weary smile you gave me as I smothered you in a relieved hug. I remembered how you cried so hard you almost couldn't get out the words, "I love you," the first time you told them to me, the song you had picked out for that moment, and how I drove the two hours home in happy tears. I remembered the sound of your voice, your easy laugh, and the way your eyes danced when you smiled. I also remembered seeing you for one last time in the church. You laid there, in dress blues ready to be taken into the sanctuary one last time on the shoulders of the soldiers who loved you. You were in the same exact place we were standing after leaving the church when we married, and we did a 'high five' because we were exhilarated to finally be down the aisle. Our marriage began and ended in the same place; how strange...
I need to know you are in that cloud of witnesses, Tom. The kids need to know it, too. All three of us have such a long road ahead of us. I struggle with knowing how to incorporate you into our lives without breaking their hearts, or mine for that matter. The next chapter in our lives has already begun and is moving in a good, happy direction. How do I appropriately keep you in the family without hurting him? While I'm at it, how weird is it to love two insanely different men? I wish beyond all wishing that God would just allow you a couple of words to me, a kind of "seal of approval," on everything, just to let me know that I'm doing the right thing. I feel good about all the choices that I have made so far, but knowing that it would pass muster with you would give me enormous peace of mind.
I didn't ask to be plopped in the big middle of this race I'm in, but as long as I'm here, I want to do it right, to make it to the end not just with a huff and a puff, but with flying colors. All I can think of is to keep my head down and just keep going toward what I know is right -- to keep my heart open to God's words and my eyes focused on the cross. Just promise me that you will be there with the others to tell me, "Welcome home," when I make it across that finish line.
Happy 8th anniversary, Schmupps; I miss you...
5 comments:
Oh, Kim.
He's there. I love the hope and promises of Hebrews 12. Rest assured, he's there.
Keep on lovin'.
So, to make this about me... it's particularly difficult to comment on a post where you are so overwhelmed by the beauty of the expression of love, pain, fear, weariness, questioning and hope that you can't think beyond the pressure in your ribs. I don't know what Tom would say, but I - being also in that cloud of witnesses to your life - say this: you are not perfect and you need to relieve yourself of the responsibility of trying to be. Recognize sin in your life, fix it and move on. And then you need to get your booty over here for an 'air five' because you ARE running the race with vigor and interest. You are working constantly to be the best that you can be for yourself, for your children, for the people who love you, and for God. Continue to hold fast and hard to your Father and your Savior, and when the time comes, He will say, "Well done good and faithful servant." I'm thinking He's also going to show you all the lives you have affected along the way ~ and He will be showing you mine for sure.
Kim -
Words can not express the grief and sorrow the family felt in losing Tom. I can never even imagine what you have gone through. He was my cousin and I have many fond memories of him, even back to the days we ran from bees at the old farm house. (That is my favorite memory). I think of him often and pray that you find peace from the grief. You are a wonderful mother and a wonderful woman. I only wish I could be a fraction of the role model you are to so many people. While I know we never spent much time together, I want you to know that you have my love and support and I am so proud that my cousin chose such a wonderful woman to share his life with and thank you for accepting him into your life. You are truly an angel -
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