In the book I’m currently reading, the author calls God by the name Joy. I was pondering that yesterday on my morning walk in the park.
A friend of mine asked me not long ago if I was mad at God about Randy’s death. I know there are lots of people who do get angry with God about taking a loved one from their life. That’s not me. It’s not God’s fault Randy died. In fact, God created a cycle of life that we humans don’t talk about or understand enough (in my opinion). I am wildly grateful God gave Randy to me early in our lives, that He orchestrated all the circumstances that allowed us to be married, grow in that marriage, and discover the length and breadth of human love in the 57 years we had together.
Last Thursday I went, as I have been doing regularly the past couple of months, to the Elks Club. We play trivia with a group of friends who cycle in and out depending on who’s available and feels like playing. I was the first one of my team to get there that day.
I said hello to Scott who runs the game each week. He called me by name. I was surprised (and impressed) he knew my name. Each week he gives me (because I’m the scribe for our team, The Mixed Nuts) a special pink breast cancer pen with the official team answer sheet. We always exchange a few pleasantries but I don’t recall ever telling him my name.
Maybe it was the simple kindness of a virtual stranger calling me by name that clicked something in my mind, but I had the best time at Trivia that afternoon. I started conversations with people I didn’t know, I felt (and probably was) more animated than I’d ever been there. I had the bright idea we need some kind of a gag traveling trophy for the week’s winner and volunteered to create one. I felt so different last Thursday than I have since I started going to play trivia about 6 weeks ago, probably 8 or 9 weeks after Randy died.
Hours later, at home that evening, I was still thinking about how good I felt. That feeling of a good day was so foreign to me. Why, I wondered. What was different? It struck me. I felt…joyful.
I had to think hard to remember the last time I felt joyful. As near as I can figure, it was probably on the cruise Randy and I took for our 50th wedding anniversary the second week of December last year. There’s certainly been no hint of joy since Randy’s diagnosis of brain cancer on February 2 of this year.
So, as I was walking yesterday, I was thinking about how last Thursday at Trivia seemed to mark a change in the journey I am walking. Since then, the intervening days were all less sad than I’d been for months. I also noticed a pronounced increase in my energy level, in my interest in undertaking a couple of projects, in doing more than simply going through the motions of existing in this house without Randy.
I don’t feel like God abandoned me or forsook me or any of those kinds of things people who are grieving can get caught up in just looking for some outlet for their grief. But I know I haven’t turned to God for comfort or solace the past several months. I haven’t asked for His help or even prayed much.
Instead, I realized, as I’ve written about here, I’ve been turning to talking to Randy to help get me through this. And it did help. For a while. Still, God, The Creator of All Things, The Unchanging I Am, The Loving Father of Humanity, The Essence of Joy, waited patiently in the wings while I processed this profound life change.
I now understand that holding on to Randy’s spirit wouldn’t help me return to joy. Randy’s physical presence is gone. Nothing will bring that back. Memories of him and our life together trigger joyful memories but only turning to God for the emotional and spiritual support I need right now will bring joy back into my life.
In the past few weeks, I’ve mentioned how the songs on Sirus XM have been speaking to me or reinforcing that my thoughts are on the right track. Hearing a song makes me believe someone “up there” is letting me know they are listening and God Winking all over me. Yesterday was no exception.
The song was Working My Way Back to You. You just gotta laugh.
If you look up the lyrics for that song, you’re going to argue that it doesn’t really fit. The song was written about a guy who treated his woman like crap and wants another chance. But wait! The nuns sang “My Guy” in the movie Sister Act. Pop songs that have nothing to do with God can work just fine with a change of perspective in how they’re interpreted.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Bottom line, I need to get back to my daily relationship with God. I didn’t really treat Him like crap, but I did gloss over Him in favor of turning to Randy for comfort and, well, maybe even emotional survival, the past few months.
I want another chance, Lord. Please!?
I need to start talking to Him instead of only to Randy. God is my future. Randy is my past. God will manifest the joy I need to live the rest of my own earthly days. And I like feeling that joy. I like feeling the energy that joy creates. I like the peace I feel walking through the park in the morning, appreciating the quiet created by a heavy cloud cover. I like the wonder I feel as I watch a stork-like bird startle and take flight. I like the calm I feel as I hear the crunch of the shell path I walk on around lakes that, without a hint of a breeze, create a perfect reflection of the trees and sky on the mirror like surfaces of the ponds.
God creates those conditions. God is the source of all Joy in life. I chose Joy. Again.
P.S. I had a conference call higher level review with the VA this morning to state my case about why their decision to not pay accrued disability benefits from Randy’s original cancer diagnosis date was a Clear and Unmistakable Error (CUE). You gotta love the acronyms government agencies use. And right now I’m loving that AI basically provided my argument free of charge and gave me step-by-step instructions how to pursue the claim without having to pay an attorney. I’ll let you know next week if my argument was successful.
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