“ . . . all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” — Julian of Norwich
My friend Carrie’s car got stolen. It was an oldish car, but it had served her well for years, and she was attached to it.
Being a sensible person, after a week went by Carrie pulled herself together and accepted her loss. It was time to move on. Let go of the old car. Get a new one.
Then came the phone call.
Carrie’s car had been found. She could go pick it up.
She did, and there it was, parked in an obscure parking lot in the far reaches of Oakland.
Intact.
More than intact. It was pristine. Her tin of Altoids still lay on the center console where she’d left it.
Her Car Is Back and All Shall Be Well
All was well.
It’s been five months since my husband died — since I got that phone call.
I’m OK most days right now. I go about my business. I’ve located a contractor to repair the old brick walkway in the back yard. I’ve contacted Social Security. I’ve figured out what to do with Jon’s car and his car payments.
Then out of the blue, come the tears. No. Not tears. That’s a euphemism. What comes out of me is screams followed by sobs followed by wails.
My reasoning, if you can call it reasoning, is that if I can just cry in some other way — with a wail instead of a sob, or a sob instead of a scream — maybe that will bring Jon back.
It doesn’t.
Jon is not coming back.
Carrie’s car showed up out of nowhere.
Jon has not. And he won’t.
At My House — All Is Not Well
My home church friends, hearing these stories, side by side, Carrie’s and mine, dove for their Bibles. To Mark 14:32-36 and Jesus in Gethsemane.
On the night before he died, in the hours before he was betrayed and arrested, Jesus prayed for a reversal in his fate.
“Abba, Father. All things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me.”
God took no action.
Jesus died the next day.
The same death that took my husband took Jesus.
Can we say, then, that all shall be well?
Further reading for the skeptics among us at “Why Pray? Some Thoughts From Karen Armstrong.” Also, “The Trouble With Daffodils — And My Writing.”
You are frequently in my thoughts, Barb. Your whole Michigan family was in shock on hearing of Jon’s death. I can’t wrap my mind around his absence, that he isn’t there with you.
I do believe that time “all will be well,” and in time you will feel what a blessing 45 years with such a wonderful guy has been. Right now I’m sure it’s just too painful.
Hi Jeanie, It brought tears to my eyes to read that my MIchigan cousins were thinking of Jon and me. That means a lot. I’m lucky to have had Jon, but it’s still pretty hard to imagine life without him.
I wish I could take your pain away. I am so, so sorry. But know that I think of you everyday and, of course am constantly reminded as we now share the same contractor and I remember so vividly your stories of your remodel.
It’s going well, slower than we would have liked but each day a little better. I had forgotten how many decision needed to be made. . . we might be back in by Christmas . . . (hopefully, this Christmas!) luckily we have my house around the corner to hunker down in.
Because you have shared your insight, your wisdom, (and, yes, your humor) and now your pain – I wonder if the last line of Mary Oliver’s poem “Wild Geese” might offer a bit of solace- maybe not now, but someday – –
“Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
Anne
Anne, I love this thought: “announcing your place in the family of things.”
So glad your remodel is moving along, though — as always — slowly. My yard is currently full of workers and equipment as the decrepit stairways get replaced. The project keeps me feeling optimistic and creative, and I don’t know what I’d do without the company of this friendly, super competent crew.
Barbara- pay close attention to the end phrase of Mark 14:36. God’s will was that Jesus would defeat death for all of those of us who believe in Him. All things WILL be well for those who trust Him who defeated death. And…. it is ok to cry and wail!!
Our prayers go out for you in your grief!! Jim & Marie Falconer
Jim and Marie. Yes! The Gospel story does end with the resurrection. But meanwhile, I find Jesus’ agony in Gethsemane and on the cross comforting. It says to me — on the days that I am a believer — that God keeps us company in our suffering.
Dear Barbara~ It’s said to be very therapeutic to “let out your feelings” in any way you can . . . alone, with others, in this singular yet touching-you electronic medium. As a chosen electronic recipient, I am so glad and grateful to be able to share this pathway with you . . . support you somehow . . . but difficult not to have a magic wand to “make you all better.” I pray the God-given Tincture of Time will work it’s needed therapy.
Some good sayings I have found helpful (I do not know the authors):
“ Grief never ends . . . but it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love.”
“ It’s hard to hear God’s voice when you’ve already decided what you want Him to say”
All the best to you~
Dear Electronic Recipient and Dear Old Friend,
I notice that many friends and family have the same urge — to wish they could make things better for me. Nothing is going to bring Jon back, but — there is a lot that friends can do. The love that I feel coming from friends far and near has been a huge help. And just being able to spend time with people — whether it’s over lunch or an email message — makes a huge difference. It’s what I need most. To talk a lot and laugh a little with a friend is what’s keeping me going.
I also enjoy hearing stories about Jon. I am finding out that there are a lot that I never heard.
Barbara, your comment today was very touching. Too touching. I don’t know how you cope with every emotion you are going through. But I love to hear the progress you are making with all the tasks. Those reports are very uplifting. Love and support.
Dear Tony. I imagine you are very sad, too. Glad that the reports help a bit.