Hold Me, Jesus
Then Job arose and rent his robe and shaved his head and fell down upon the
ground and worshiped
And said, Naked (without possessions) came I [into this world] from my mother's womb, and naked (without possessions) shall I depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed (praised and magnified in worship) be the name of the Lord!
--Job 1:20-21 Amplified Classic
My husband died this past week.
Truth be told it wasn't completely an unexpected thing; he has fought a plethora of issues for the past 14 years including renal failure, multiple MRSA infections, mini-strokes, an aneurysm, as well as being a double amputee. Sadly he somehow had been exposed to and inevitably developed a fungal infection known as "blastomycosis," an illness that until these past four + months I had never heard of. This particular illness is found in moist soil and decomposing vegetation (think wood and/or leaves) and takes on many of the symptoms of either the flu or pneumonia. Depending upon the severity recovery can take anywhere from six months to a year. That was not the case for my husband. Three-and-a half-weeks sedated and intubated in ICU. Having a tracheostomy done. Coding twice (the second time in front of me) and being brought back, losing an exorbitant amount of body weight and muscle mass. Anger, frustration, fear, doubt, discouragement (his as well as mine). Being transferred three-and-a-half hours away to a facility with the hope of physical therapy being administered but being so weak he could barely sit up in a chair. Setback upon setback upon setback until his body pretty much made the decision--"I'm done. It's time to go Home."
Even as I sit here, fingers to keyboard, it all seems surreal still. I still expect a call from his case manager to discuss his progress or the lack thereof. I find myself looking at the calendar thinking I'm going to get a video call. Neither happens. Then I remember this past Tuesday as I watched his breath slowly leave him. And the ache in my chest returns with a vengeance.
Not only am I having to learn to navigate life as a widow I am also learning how to redefine the world around me and all that goes with it. I am stumbling my way through the murk and mire of working fulltime while managing the bills, keeping the roof over our heads, putting food on the table, getting everyone to and from where they need/want to be with the uncertainty of how all these things are going to continue. The question of "how" lingers in the back of my head and with each day that passes it pushes its way to the front.
The question of "why" wants to stick its nose in here too. After all, this isn't how it's supposed to be. Of course, death will separate us inevitably but not until we were secure financially with a wee bit more silver in our crowns. Not until we fulfilled our (well, mine actually) bucket list trip to Old Orchard House in Concord, Massachusetts with a detour to Niagra Falls next summer. Not until Kenny and Cheyenne graduated from high school at the very least. These were just a few of the things my husband and I had planned together. Life it seems had other ideas.
Three days after my husband died I took a drive to Greensky Hill church, one of my favorite places to find stillness and peace. I walked around the grounds with my phone's camera on snapping pictures of not only the rustic beauty of the log cabin church but also the colors bursting from the surrounding trees. I'm not exactly sure just how long I spent walking and taking pictures but however long it was it's never long enough. There was a cool breeze along with a slight chill. I just walked among the gravestones thinking, praying, wishing. I thought about times as a child being brought here for camp meetings and tent revival services. I remembered coming here with my husband as a still fairly young couple for harvest dinners and later on in years for gi-bi suppers, fundraisers, and afternoon Sunday services. Along came that familiar ache.
I like to listen to music as I drive so when I left I turned up the volume on a CD that had been playing of a man named Rich Mullins. One song in particular caused me to crank up the volume even louder than usual. A song called "Hold Me Jesus." It reads a little something like this:
Well, sometimes my life just don't make sense at all
When the mountains look so big,
And my faith just seems so small
When the mountains look so big,
And my faith just seems so small
So hold me Jesus,
Cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace
Cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace
And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It's so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart
It's so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart
So hold me Jesus,
Cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace
Cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace
Surrender don't come natural to me
I'd rather fight you for something
I don't really want
Than to take what you give that I need
And I've beat my head against so many walls
Now I'm falling down, I'm falling on my knees
I'd rather fight you for something
I don't really want
Than to take what you give that I need
And I've beat my head against so many walls
Now I'm falling down, I'm falling on my knees
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Richard Mullins
Even before my husband died this song for better or for worse has laid
testimony to my life. My mountain--him being in the hospital, clinging to the
slightest glimmer of hope that he would recover and come home. Trying to
keep the household and everyone in it going in one capacity or another.
Waking up and feeling the heat and torment of despair and discouragement
yet all the while fighting the concept of complete and total surrender,
something that has never really been a strong suit of mine. Wanting answers
to questions I may never get until I reach the gates of Heaven, answers that
quite frankly God has no obligation to give nor did He promise them.
I read the story of Job and I can't help but marvel at not only his faith and
perserverance but also his raw humanity. Here is a man, a godly man, who
has just lost his wealth, his home, his crops, his animals, and all 10 of his
children. As if this weren't enough, the Adversary strikes him head to toe with
boils and lesions so painful that, as he sits among a bed of ashes, he uses a
broken piece of pottery to scrape them.
Adding insult to injury, Job's wife, comes to him, not offering words of care,
comfort, or concern. Instead she tells Job, Then his wife said to him, "Do you
still hold fast your blameless uprightness? Renounce God and die!" (v.9)
Job could have listened. I'm pretty sure no one, myself included, would have
blamed or judged him one iota. Listen, however to his response in verse 10:
But he said to her, You speak as one of the impious and foolish women would
speak. What? Shall we accept [only] good at the hand of God and shall we not
accept [also] misfortune and what is of a bad nature? In [spite of] all
this, Job did not sin with his lips.
Job was a godly man. Throughout Scripture his faith and testimony can be
read. He was also human. Candid, raw, naked, unabashedly human. He cried
out to God in grief and anguish. He begged for answers. He questioned his
purpose. He even went so far as to question God. Through it all, God's hand
was on him. Job was restored. God gave him back double what he had lost. In
the midst of Job's anguish he never renounced his faith or his God.
What this says to me is I too can say, "Hold me, Jesus. None of this makes
sense, I don't understand any of it, I'm scared, I'm confused..." and so on. It's
okay. God does not falter. He does not sleep. Though my eyes may see every-
thing as blurry, He is working crystal clear.
He has been King of My glory...
He IS my prince of peace...
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