Anticipation

Twenty one years ago I was a bride going to sleep the night before my wedding. Excitement, nervousness, exhaustion all contributed to a fitful evening. In the morning I woke up and went for a massage. It was a gift from a friend and a great idea! Some of the moments from the day are lost to my memory. I don’t remember how I got to the church. Other memories are as fresh as yesterday.

I loved the beauty and symbolism of my wedding, the rite of passage, the blending of lives. The anticipation of beginning life together, new and exciting and ours, was more intense than a kid’s sugar rush after a birthday party. Who knew what lay ahead?! I was certain whatever it was it would be great. In my mind we were one of the all time loves of the world. Nothing was more powerful than the love we had for each other. Not even death! Time, and experience, hadn’t smoothed off the edges of my dramatic flair at that point!

I was right. We have a great love. At the time I didn’t realize there would be forces stronger than death to contend with though. Like selfishness.

Four years ago I was a daughter in a hospice room. I wouldn’t really be sleeping that night. I was listening. Listening for breathing. This time death really was the enemy. I could see the shadow at the edge of the room. You don’t forget its sight. Ever. Death wasn’t the only thing present though. Love was there. I knew who would win. Ultimately. I kept watch and prayed. Not everyone has the privilege of journeying with someone right to edge of life, up to the doorway of rebirth. I don’t regret it, but I would never want to repeat it again. It was not a pretty anticipation, listening for the breathing to stop.

Morning, two decades ago, dawned bright and lovely. I wore white and stepped out to meet love. Join hands in its presence. Pledge myself to protect and honor it with my new spouse.

Four years ago the morning held horror, and wonder. Love came and emptied my hands, taking her from my presence. The last breath. It finally came. The anticipation was over. We worshipped. We grieved.

It took courage to face both mornings.

It’s strange that the memory of two vastly different days share the same date. Life is like that. Joy and sorrow will always intertwine. One tinging the other. Giving meaning and depth. I’m not sorry. Thankful. Sad. Hopeful. But not sorry.

The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
may the name of the Lord be praised. Job 1:21b

What are you anticipating? Something good? Something bad? Whatever it is, praise God. He will meet you in every moment.