Finding My Way Back to the Shore

Leading into the weekend of hosting my first ever Widow's Retreat, I have been struggling on the section of identity.  This struggle isn't because I don't know who I am, but rather it's because I believe so much of our grief as a widow is wrapped around identity.  I have wanted this section to be perfect, and convey exactly what God wants.  I'm in day three of a spiritual fast, deplete of earthly nutrients with a headache that won't quit, but full of spiritual nutrients, and I keep coming back to this unwritten part of my content - that I'm supposed to start delivering in two days. 

 

It was over a coffee with a good friend just last week where she told me that the emotion I wasn't tapping into was the emotion I needed to finish this section.  This talk on identity, is a rock to my very core, and I have very much been struggling to get to the point where I will allow the emotions to come out so that I could pour my heart onto the paper for these women. 

 

So here I am, 4 am on a Wednesday morning, crying into my keyboard and writing, as I have done so many times.  Allowing the tears to flow and the emotion of not only remembrance but also gratitude leaking from my eyes as I get these thoughts out of my head and into a tangible form that I can share with others. 

 

God healed me of my struggle with identity.  I don't mean he put a bandaid over a little scratch for a few days.  That is healing, no doubt.  But the kind-of healing I'm talking about isn't one that comes easily.  It's one that comes from having your word completely turned upside down, inside out, shaken up, and wrung out to dry.  A cut so deep, you wonder how it didn't split you in two. 

 

 

The enemy wants us to question what God says about us, who He calls us.  The enemy knows if he can get us to question our identity, that he can create a stronghold in our lives so deep that it knocks our feet out from under us, and crushes us. 

 

When our identity is secure in Christ, we are no longer slaves to that part of the enemy's agenda.  When our identity is secure in Christ, we unlock unmerited favor and grace.  When we begin to operate as a Daughter, it begins to change the way that we think, live, move and interact with others. 

 

The enemy fights on a identity level, because he knows this is where impact happens.  He knows that this one thing will change you, and has the potential to cause irreparable damage, if we let it.

 

; but God... 

 

I've written about this a few times now, but I feel God telling me it's time to share the deep dark of this.  So buckle in friends, here we go...

 

It was the day that Joe passed where immediately my mind went to the word widow.  I thought, wow, I was Joe's wife, and now I'm his widow.  I even went so far as to start to talk to other women about what it meant to become a widow.  But seemingly immediately, my soul was telling me no.  No Laura, something isn't right here.  I couldn't put my finger on it, but I now realize I was out of alignment with what the Holy Spirit was trying to tell me.  I just wasn't ready to hear it yet.  I was so wrung up with grief, I was grasping at straws to make sense of everything and my identity was at the center of it all.

 

It was in my small group just a few months after Joe died that I realized this world rocking identity shift had started much earlier in my life.

 

We were instructed to look back at the times in our lives where we had loss or trauma.  We then took those times and put them on a graph with dates.  Interestingly, a lot these dates often overlapped. 

 

For example: In the fourth grade, we had a house fire, my parents separated and divorced, and then we moved to another city away from my dad.  Trauma, loss, loss. 

 

As I look back on life, there were so many moments that created little shifts here and there in my identity that caused me to start to pull away from God.  Like the gently rocking of boat, our lives get rocked back and forth until we have pulled away from the shore, our anchor becomes untethered and we start to drift out to sea.  With each little thing that shaped and formed me, I had made decisions to pull away from God.  I don't think these were conscious decisions (mostly), but subconscious.  This is just another tactic of the enemy.  He rocks and pulls at our life every so slightly, over and over again, until we don't know where we should go.  We get so confused, distracted, wrapped up in life, beaten down with hurt, consumed with overwhelm - until our heads are turned, we've fallen out of the boat, clinging on for dear life, deep into the ocean bobbing for air, frantically looking around and our eyes are no longer fixed on Jesus. 

 

The more and more I learn about Jesus and how we grow, the more I have come to know that I have the ability to reframe the idea of loss or trauma, to growth.  I can choose to look at these times of loss as loss, or I can choose to look at them as times where God was using moments to grow my roots deeper.  Even in the times where I didn't automatically turn to him, he was using them to grow roots deep within me so much so that when I did turn to him, the roots had taken hold, and just needed nurturing to grow and flourish. 

 

Joe and I had met in church and spent a good part of the first years together in the church.  But, the church we started in had some troubling times.  The pastor who we had looked up to for so much wisdom and guidance, had an affair with another member of the church.  The foundation we had been building at that church came crumbling down around us. 

 

We soon found ourselves in another church home.  This pastor married us, but still, something wasn't right for us. 

 

We had another pastor steal thousands of dollars from us.

 

We went to yet another church, and it was in this church that we found healing in our marriage after a battle of infidelity - but the continued temptation at that church was too strong, and we left. 

 

We searched and searched for another church home, but all of the hurt we had in our lives to that point (seemingly) were wrapped around church experiences.  Talk about the enemy nudging his way in.  This was so subtle and took so much time, he intricately wove hurt in and out of our lives, and gave us the lens of it happening through the church to pull us both away from God. 

 

In the meantime, I started wrapping my life around my kids and work.  From school to sports, working with multiple therapists for our two special needs daughters, teaching classes at the gym, losing a job and struggling to find a new one...also struggling with my weight and body appearance,  self confidence and purpose. 

 

A lot of life happened, and then, Joe died.  My immediate thought is, well now I guess I'm a widow too. 

 

Immediate resolve to that thought, and defeat.  The thought of wow, is this really what my life is now? 

 

; but God. 

 

 

At the start of the pandemic, I remember sitting in my office when the world started to shut down and having a actual breakdown.  Worried about money mostly, but having a full on panic attack.  We had just gotten back on our feet from another financial struggle, and I was so wrapped up in what would happen, I couldn't breathe.  Joe sat in my office with me and told me to get myself together (in more colorful words).  I had become really good at stuffing emotion and collecting myself to this point, that I was able to compose myself quickly so that the kids didn't see just how upside down I was feeling inside.  I started taking meds for anxiety, drinking a lot more, and still found myself often trying to catch my breath and regulate from the physical effects of anxiety.

 

It was during the pandemic, I had a urge in my spirit to take our family back to church.  Little did I know, this one decision would start to pull the boat back to shore.   

 

It started with the kids trying out the youth programming, which they loved.  Then, Christmas Eve service, and then that turned into a regular attendance.  I quickly fell in love with church community we now call our church home. Joe and I fast became involved.  Going through growth track to not only dedicate ourselves as members of the church, but to also volunteer our time to give back to others.  We were given the opportunity to teach a marriage small group and made friends with our mentor couple, as well as the four couples who joined group that semester.  These couples, are also the ones who showed up for us big time when Joe passed.  Beyond family, they are the first people I called for support to share the news.  They are the ones that volunteered at the funeral, made sure we were fed, and covered us spiritually.  Little did I know, just how that one decision to turn back to Jesus would have been a big part of the support puzzle I would need when my world shattered. 

 

God calls us to be his hands and feet on earth, and they were that for me and the kids.  They showed us so much love by spending time with us, as well as making sure we were well taken care of in the days and months following Joe's passing. 

 

Those days and weeks after Joe's death were dark.  So very dark.  I found myself withdrawn from life, but still drawing in towards God.  I look at my journals now and I see so much of the teachings I was seeking out and listening to, were wrapped around identity.  It was in those days and weeks that God was starting to reshape me from the inside out. 

 

He was slowly pulling me back to the shore.

 

I stumbled across a sermon by one of our campus pastors just the fall prior that changed my entire perspective on identity.  Joe and I had listened to this sermon.  I had notes from it.  We had discussed it over lunch that day, but then it became just another sermon - until it wasn't. 

 

A seed had been planted, and it was in my tears of loss that the seed started to grow and take root. 

 

The sermon asked these questions: How do I think about me?  How do I see myself?  How do I feel about my identity?  How do I find my identity?  Do I belong?  Why am I here? 

 

That's a lot to unpack in a hours time - and really, it's not something that can be unpacked in the span of an hour, but more watering was happening with this teaching.

 

 

I started journaling answers to these questions and learned that a lot my answers were negative, self-loathing and full of descriptors of my person. 

 

Who am I?  // Widow.  Mom.  Fitness enthusiast.  (on and on...)

 

God says, no.  Those are descriptors of who you are. 

 

 

As he continued to lovingly pull me back to the shore, he asked me to anchor this in my soul.  He asked me to search for my identity in him first.  He asked me to settle this one thing on a soul level with him. 

 

As my pastor shared: When we try to find our identity in anything outside of Jesus, the final destination is a undelivered promise.

 

I have to be honest, I have wrestled hard with this.  I've gone to Jesus more times than I'd like to admit questioning if this is all real.  I've asked him repeatedly to anchor this in me.  I've begged him to anchor my soul and to keep me tethered to him.  

 

He's so patient and kind with us, with me.  He graciously pulls me back into his loving arms every single time I start to drift.  He gently reminds me that yes, I am His, and that is enough.  That is all I need.

 

Friend, if we let him, he shows us with each and every breath we breathe that we are uniquely designed and created for unique purpose. 

 

God didn't just create me. 

He created me, like me. 

My nature. 

My experiences. 

My personality. 

My body. 

My gifts. 

My talents. 

 

They're all unique to me.  This design, wasn't accidental or arbitrary, it was on purpose - for a purpose. 

 

 

Resetting the thoughts of moving all of my 'descriptors of identity' towards 'In Christ' - I don't have to dismiss what describes me.  I get to embrace them. 

 

I can now say, I'm a widow - and while that word widow still can make the hair on the back of my neck stand up, I can also smile and say it with confidence. 

 

My spouse didn't complete me.  Christ did (and does) that. 

 

I'm a widow, in Christ. 

 

 

God has given me unique life experiences, and a unique voice purposed to help other widows. 

 

What does that look like?  I don't know yet, but He does.  He knows every little piece of the puzzle he wants to put into place.  All I have to do is say: Jesus, I am here. I surrender to you plan.  Putting the pieces in place is then up to him. 

 

I am here to leverage this unique identity - in Christ - to make an impact on the world around me.  He's pulled me back to the shore, and anchored my tether In Him.  Now I can look at the sea in wonderment for all the beauty it holds while not being pulled out to the deep and fear of drowning. 

 

God's got me, and I've got him.