Always and Never

I was reminded today of how little meaning the words "always" and "never" hold for me now.  It was a conversation with some people who had experienced spousal loss in several different ways.  One of the losses was very fresh.  I mentioned my recollection that in those early months I had no idea who I really was or where I was headed.

One of the other speakers talked about the way in which folks urge the bereaved in several contradictory directions.  

There is the "don't give up on love" school of thought--as if we might be so scared of losing again that we would remain alone forever.  Some might choose that, but in the early days and months, who knows?  

There is the "don't change anything for a year" school of thought--as if we might lose our sanity temporarily and fly off to Rio for an emotional binge.  Of course, some of us do precisely that, but in the early days and months, who knows?

All I know is this.  When Anne died, everything changed.  The plans and projects, the hopes and dreams, the assumptions about the future all changed or simply evaporated.  "Always" had come to an end.  

There were those moments when I thought that things would never get better.  There were those moments when I was sure that I would never be able to go on.  Then the Holy Spirit put Brenda and me together.  After that, "never" was a term I could no longer use.

We make our plans.  We put together our maps for the journey.  We prepare for the future day by day.  Those are good and important things to do.  But none of those plans are for "always."  None of those maps can guarantee any "nevers."  We do our footwork.  We put ourselves in places where we can respond faithfully.  Then we see what God has in store for us.

Living through this high-wire act called life can be gut-wrenching and stomach-churning at times.  If I look down and notice how little is really certain, I can have moments of spiritual, emotional and even physical vertigo.  If I think very hard about how little is nailed down in this life, I can suffer a dawn to dusk anxiety attack.

I can do that if I choose to do so.

Living through this high-wire act called life can, if we allow it, also be exhilarating--a cosmic thrill ride of a eternal proportions.  We do our footwork.  We put ourselves in places where we can respond faithfully.  We see what God has in store for us.  It's a hoot and a half, because the surprises are astonishing.

You know, I was ready to load up the truck with camping gear, pick a direction on the map, and head out.  I was going to keep going until my brain cleared or the money disappeared--whichever came first. Days after that decision, I walked through Brenda's door in Elkhorn.  And everything changed.

God said "Surprise!"  So much for "always" and "never."

There are only two exceptions.  God is always faithful.  And God never gives up on loving us.  Everything else is just part of the adventure.