Oh boy…… What would people think of me if they saw me sitting on the floor of Tony’s closet with his shirts hanging around my face and my feet tucked in his leather boots? I love his flannel shirts, his old jeans and his overalls. I loved the smell of him. He was probably the most well-groomed person I know, but he wore way too much cologne. He had the more is better mentality. I didn’t care. He smelled like my Tony and I loved it. Since he’s been gone, I sleep in his boxers and his favorite T-shirt that says, Best Papa Ever. The shirt he wore the day before he went to the hospital is under my pillow. I refuse to wash it. My bed is covered with books about grief, self-help, and inspirational quotes; none are of any help to me. I have five journals stacked and never seem to write in the same one consistently (when I die, my kids are going to think I’m completely nuts.). I have my bible close, but since Tony’s death I haven’t been reading it. I just hold it close to me. I cry every day. I have screamed, and I have literally stomped my feet and pounded my fists. The words I always said I would never say have come out of my mouth about a million times: “Why Lord, why me, why us, why Tony?”

Tony believed, and so do I, that we each have an appointed day and time of death. We cannot buy ourselves one day more than we are meant to be on this earth, so in asking why, I feel like I’m trying to make the Lord explain something I already know. It’s so frustrating though when I cry out to God and ask Him to show me something or speak to me about what happened, tell me why my prayers weren’t answered, and I get nothing. I can’t feel his presence at all.

Three weeks ago (two nights before Tony’s memorial service), I was having one of my moments of lovingly yelling at the Lord (He has big shoulders, He can take it). I had been crying out to Him in pain and desperation for weeks but felt He had deafened His ears to me and to my cries so, I yelled, or maybe it was a scream, DO YOU HEAR ME, DO YOU SEE ME, DO YOU EVEN KNOW IM HERE. It wasn’t pretty, but I continued ranting for at least 30 minutes, maybe longer. Nothing happened. No angel came. No bolt of lightning. No audible voice. Nothing. My thoughts went to my daddy who passed away four years ago. His bible was sitting on the table beside Tony’s chair. Surely there would be a passage or a verse he underlined that might help me. Daddy’s bible is just pages. It is no longer bound with a cover. The pages are stained, written on, words underlined and highlighted in pink and yellow. He loved the Word of God and he read it daily. I grabbed it from the table and took it back upstairs to my bed of sorrow. When I opened it, a little picture fell out. It was of me when I was four. Daddy had cut my face from a big picture into a perfect little circle. I have read and opened his bible so many times, but I have never seen this picture. On the back of the picture was written Ps 139. I quickly opened the pages to the book and chapter, and this is what I read:

Psalm 139 - 1 You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. 2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. 4 Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. 5 You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. 7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, 10 even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. 11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” 12 even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. 13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. 16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. 17 How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! 18 Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you. 19 If only you, God, would slay the wicked! Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty! 20 They speak of you with evil intent; your adversaries misuse your name. 21 Do I not hate those who hate you, LORD, and abhor those who are in rebellion against you? 22 I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies. 23 Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. 24 See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.

I was stunned, speechless, but filled excitement and joy. I have heard the Lord clearly speak to me several times in my life and He has shown me some amazing things, but never before has He so clearly told me that He knows me, hears me, sees me. What an incredible gift to receive in a moment when I felt lost and alone. Sobs of joy and thankfulness came over me and covered my pain that night. The next few days were difficult, but I felt better, I feel better. So…. now that I know He hears me, I wonder, what now Lord? Where does your path lead me while I’m here on this earth?

Tony, you left me to go to Heaven and I’m here not clearly seeing or knowing my path. You have been my earthly rock and foundation for the past 14 years. I have depended on you for prayer and guidance through our marriage. I believe the Lord is telling me it’s time to lean on Him, not you. He is my Way; you were His helper.

Babe, if you get to look down and cheer me on, please be praying that my heart will be open to see, hear, and know the path our Father has planned for me. You are my heart TM. CL (Tony’s nickname for me since I was 17 was Cindy Lou)