The Pause

There's a bend in a road I travel occasionally that takes me back to when Tim and I were first dating. Whenever I drive it, no matter the weather, I roll the windows down and remember what the breeze felt like all those years ago.  Riding on his motorcycle, my arms around his waist, nestled up to his strong back, there was a warm safety that continues to do this day.

Back then, young and full of dreams, I would envision our life together.  Thinking of our future always filled with me happiness and I couldn't wait to be his wife.  Being with him then, wind in my hair, our love felt carefree and that's how I imagined our marriage would be.

Twenty-some-odd years later, there has been much joy and days upon days of happiness, but there has also been loss and heartache, sickness and pain.  I don't know a marriage that doesn't have a mixture of it all.

Last Saturday night, I was stewing a bit and not feeling the hearts and butterflies of that young love.  Tim had been an absolute grump and was not my favorite person.  And even though I more than a little frustrated with him, I sat thinking about how often little hiccups like ours send some couples right apart.  Maybe it is because we've endured most of life's big ones, but I just don't understand how easy it is for marriages to simply end.  So often I see emotions dictate permanent decisions.  It saddens me to see others fall "out of love" faster than they fell in, as I don't know how that's possible.

Maybe I'm extra sappy from the week's experiences, but Tim is my person.  My best friend.  My soul mate.  And I can't imagine life without him.  

Almost exactly a week ago, I wrote about prayer.  Little did I know that God was preparing my heart for a storm.  While my mind was heavy with the needs of others, I neglected to see those of my husband.  

After over twenty years together, I should've seen his grumpiness last weekend for what it was.  My husband was not well.

I went to bed in tears Saturday for his attitude and awoke in tears for his safety.  Waking for church, I finally noticed signs that something wasn't right.  Struggling for nearly every breath, we locked eyes and he admitted what I saw.  Hearing him ask to go to doctor, while clutching his chest, is a snapshot in time I'd soon forget.  Though I remained calm, there were pieces of me breaking inside, as they

they took him back for tests in the ER.  

Sitting with my back to the same shared wall that I said goodbye to my son in eight years ago, I questioned my peace.  Was I dreaming?  Was I really back here?  For awhile, it was as if I had a foot in both places, remembering my screams that November night and quietly petitioning for Tim's healing in the room I now waited.

To date, we still don't have answers and he is still struggling.  We spent a long night in the hospital with every test coming back normal.  While I am grateful, it is hard to watch the love of your life hurting, uncertain, and not being able to do anything but pray.

As such, I've spent a lot of time at His feet this week.  

At one point in the hospital, my body so physically tired from watching over Tim and mind racing with prayers, I just mentally imagined myself there.  I didn't know what else to say, what other prayer to offer, so I simply said, "I'm here, Jesus....I'm here."

Often in this life, we don't get the answers we're looking for and sometimes we have to wait.  Neither are easy but I trust in His timing.  And I'm listening to what He's trying to teach me in the pause.