When you are living totally alone, you look at surviving whatever life brings your way, in a different way than if you have another person to hold you. It is Biblical, you know, if you’ve read that verse that talks about being stronger when you have another person to lift you up when you get down. Two are stronger than one. A solitary life bears all the responsibilities of life.
So, this whole isolation thing is viewed differently by people like me. I know my children could not take care of me if I get sick, because they all are in busy stages of life where their own immediate families need them each day. Not having parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, or even close friends here or even left to help is real to people like myself. And, yes, I miss my dear man who used to take care of me so well.
So for that reason, I have not tried to go to church services for over a whole year. For 55 Sundays I have stayed at home, watching online services, sometimes viewing several churches. Sometimes I’ve even had two going simultaneously, one on my laptop and one on the TV. It seemed to be the safest way and also a way that my kids wouldn’t worry about me getting the COVID in that closer, static church setting that we’ve all heard over and over harbors germs.
Please don’t be judgmental, unless you’ve walked in my shoes. I realize many of you went back to public worship months ago. It has seemed the best, and God knows my heart. Attending church has been totally different for me since Mike died in 2016, anyway. I have long said that church is one of the hardest places for me to go without him. But, until March of 2020, I rarely missed a Sunday.
I have missed being there, even though I’ve often wondered if I’ve been missed. Satan does that, you know. He tells us lies. Especially if we’re already fighting the insecurities of widowhood that have completely changed every single piece of our life. And even when there may be some truth hidden in there, too, I could get bitter, but I’ve prayed to get better.
Today, I decided it was time to just go. I’ve watched as our country just keeps getting thrown around towards hell, and as people just keep losing hope. From the most steadfast saint to the innocent child, we are all feeling some of the hopelessness of the future and the forced changes we don’t like in this current country we live in. Knowing that anything that comes to us has been allowed by Sovereign God, doesn’t mean we can always see the path of hope that only God can see.
As the current administration seems hellbent on leading our country straight into socialism, I fear that we may not have the privilege of even attending free worship services that have always been a part of my life. So I have decided that it’s just time for me to risk it and go back to public worship. Even if I live life alone.
I’ve always believed our days are numbered by Sovereign God, anyway. But, I’ve also believed that He has given us common sense to take care of our bodies, because they are temples that He desires to dwell in. I believe that He also holds this world we live in, in His hands. He knows how to make everything work together for good for those who live for Him.
This morning I was thankful that I was able to sing these words with the congregation, without crying. They’ve been such hard ones for me to sing since death took Mike away. Even though the isolation has just compounded every facet of loss and grief, Sovereign God has continued to be faithful to give me hope for the future that He alone can see.
“Hallelujah, praise the One who set me free
Hallelujah, death has lost its grip on me
You have broken every chain
There’s salvation in Your name
Jesus Christ, my living hope”
-Chorus from the song, Living Hope – By Phil Wickham
Only do selfies once in awhile, when I miss taking a picture with Mike.
