Love Letter to a New Widow

To my beautiful, shattered, widow sister,

Welcome to the family.

I know you hate the very sentiment. You want to wake up from this nightmare, are looking for a way out, and have only joined us screaming and wailing (most likely, literally).

It's ok. That's how we all came.

I know that all you want is to have him back. We aren't offended that you didn't want to join the club.

We will still stand with you, arms opened wide... because when you are ready, you will likely start asking, "How can I meet other widows? How can I connect with someone who gets it?"

Because the loneliness can be suffocating. The cold, empty bed at night. The silence when you call their name out loud. The empty seat at the table. I'm so sorry.

We all hate it. But this place of forced stillness? It's also can be a place where you may hear the Lord clearer than you ever have. Where you experience Him holding you in comfort in ways you have never known before. Where your gifts and light are going to shine bright; where we shine brighter together.

Welcome to growth.

The kind no one chooses. The kind where you will become a completely different person you never knew before... a person you are going to be so proud of and thankful for.

Widowhood is its own kind of place. It's a place where religious duty dies and reverence is born. It's where you pray in primal cries and find your truest of friends. It's a place of wrestling, where you refuse to quit unless God blesses you...

And you will be strengthened, and begin to transform.

Welcome to fortitude and resilience.

You are going to face the monster of grief every day and, somehow, get through the day. You will quit a hundred million times and say "I can't do this," and yet, you keep winning... because you are alive the next day, still doing it.

You see, winning is living. Breathing is worship. Victory and love are simply received.

Where you are weakest - He is strong. That's how you know you're going to make it.

Welcome to rebuilding.

When you look around, you see rubble, loss... a graveyard. That's because your person is still missing. But ground zero can be the foundation for something beautiful to be rebuilt.

I know the future is frightening, but trust me when I say that there is more for you. More laughter, more love, more joy... more life.

Though you lost a part of you when he died, you did not die. You will not die from this.

Your story isn't over yet. And you are not alone.

Welcome to intimacy.

Not the kind you had before (sorry!).

However, you have the opportunity to be truly known... because all your colors are going to be seen.

It's ok. You are way past capacity. You are beyond "keeping it together." You are too limited to put on masks and please other people (who have no idea). You are going to fail. Widowhood is a sh** show.

It's a gift, actually! You're going to learn mercy, grace, and love from it's truest sources- God and safe people (and widowhood is full of great company).

Don't worry about how other people feel about or respond to your grief. Just find and hold on to the ones who will companion you well in the journey.

Welcome to hope.

If you can hear it from me in any capacity, please tuck this truth nugget deep, through all of the pain and anger and disbelief into your heart, where it will be waiting for you:

You are going to be ok.

I know nothing is ok right now. I know you are not ok right now. I know you cannot fathom being ok in a life where he is not living.

But you are going to make it. And it will be good again. Not the same good... but still good again.

You can find identity, healing, purpose, and the power to keep living a beautiful life.

As a new widow, I am here to welcome you.

Yes, into grief, and into pain, but also into

family, growth, fortitude and resilience, rebuilding, intimacy, and hope.

With you,

Rachel

🌻As always, hit one of the buttons below 👇 to be able to share this post,

or hit back to return to the main blog page & subscribe (at the top)

to be in-the-know when a new post drops!