A Red Letter Day

My phone lit up, indicating someone was calling me. It was set on silent, the phone number with no name flashed on the screen. There was a lull in the meeting and I stepped outside to listen to the voicemail. Sure enough, I heard an enthusiastic voice saying, “Wow, this feels kind of strange, but I’m wondering if you’d like to meet for coffee this morning? Give me a call and let’s see if we can set a date!” I felt a surge of electricity as I immediately called back and we agreed on twelve thirty that afternoon.

I’d recently joined a matching website and asked for God’s help as I entered photos of myself that were recent–I didn’t mind if they were flattering and made me look young! I was very specific about who I was interested in. I wanted them to be of a certain political persuasion and most important, love God with all their soul and strength and mind. He’d need to have a personal relationship with Him as well. I desired this person to love and accept my family, too.

Jim’s profile looked promising and I wanted to meet him face-to-face soon. That often reveals even more of a person after the initial communication.

From Beyond Second Chances:

I was a bit late as I drove into the crowded parking lot. Meeting someone for the first time is always an adventure. I braced myself for the disappointment I’d experienced so many times. But then I found myself thinking optimistically, imagining that things would be different this time. The sun peeked through the clouds as I stepped past outdoor tables scattered with people. I glanced inside. Nearby stood a trim man dressed in jeans and polo shirt with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. His back was to me as he surveyed the crowded lunchtime group.

“Are you Jim?”

He turned to me, friendly blue eyes framed by wire, square glasses. He flipped his laptop open, looked at my profile photo on the screen and said, “You must be Shirley.” We shook hands and Jim asked what he could get for me.

“A cappuccino, please. A tall would be great.” He came back with our drinks and we began to talk nonstop.

Jim was indeed a widower as I suspected. When two people meet who share a similar loss—in our case, a spouse—there is an understanding. Unlike relationships ended through other ways, there is no threat when speaking of a late spouse. There are only sweet memories. Jim asked about my losses and I told him about Bill’s leukemia and death. I went on to relate how I met and married Blair two years later. On our last evening together, Blair lost consciousness due to a brain aneurysm and died. Jim shook his head in sympathy. “What about you?” I asked.

“My wife Kathy had been tired for several months,” he explained. “At first we blamed it on getting older, but we started wondering when she got so short of breath that she needed my help pushing her garden cart. We found out she had pulmonary fibrosis in 2008.”

I stumbled over the unfamiliar term and Jim replied, “Well, it was actually idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis—IPF. It causes a person to slowly suffocate.” Jim shook his head at the memory of her struggling for air during her last days. “Some people get a lung transplant but Kathy didn’t want to be tied to the medical system for the rest of her life.”

“Wow, you’ve been through a lot.”

“Well, no more than you,” he countered. “I sold my business to take care of her. Even though those were the hardest years, they were also the best. We were forced to slow down. We talked through our difficult years and forgave each other for the mistakes we had made. This battle of her disease was our battle together.”

This guy is quality, I thought.

“I really loved Psalm 119 and read it over and over to her. God was good, for she died peacefully. One late summer day at 4:20 in the afternoon, her breathing slowed and quietly—painlessly—she slipped into eternity. My Kathy was gone.” His voice broke.

That’s the beginning of a relationship that is nearly nine years old now. Our love is stronger than ever and we give thanks for each day we have together. Both of us are busy in joint efforts as well as separate ones. We support each other in each of our ventures. One thing we don’t ever put off is celebrating that first date, September 4.

If we are in town, we visit the Starbucks where we met, but if we’re gone, we simply find a place for coffee and reminisce that special day we’ll never forget.

Our engagement photo, October, 2013

Do you have special red-letter day you like to remember? If your mate is still here on earth, I suggest you make a date, and celebrate. Don’t put it off. If your spouse is no longer on earth, how about taking yourself some place special and remember that first date? Write down your thoughts about your special relationship and give thanks to God for the gift of love you shared with that person.

I’ll close with the verse I use when signing my book Beyond Second Chances: Heartbreak to Joy,

Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning (Psalm 30:5b NKJV).

For those of you who are still mourning the loss of a loved one, and particularly a spouse, I realize you think you’ll never be as happy as you were when your loved one was here. I understand, for I’ve been there too. I learned to be thankful for the gift of the love I’d experienced. Was there pain in the loss? Of course! Grief is the price of love. I had to learn to face the future by myself. I learned my history wasn’t complete and I needed to continue to live. I didn’t die. Does the word “joy” seem foreign to you? It’s interesting how often the word appears in Scripture:

Always be joyful. Never stop praying. (I Thess. 5:16)
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, (James 1:2)
You will show me the way of life. Being with You is to be full of joy. (Psalm 16:11)
- - - - This is the day the LORD has made. Let’ rejoice and be glad today! (Psalm 118:24)