It is Better

November 18, 2019

1 Peter 1:6-9 In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, 7 so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; 8 and though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, 9 obtaining as the outcome of your faith the salvation of your souls.

Two years ago today, I memorialized my husband at a high school track field. I chose a track field so that my kids and everyone in attendance would remember him for his strength and speed and not for what ALS had taken away from him the six-and-a-half years it attacked his body. Our family was finally starting to recover from our loss when 14 months ago my house flooded. One could say I’ve had my fair share of trials that have distressed me. However, through all of it, my faith did not waiver.

I have been back in my house now for five months. It is finally starting to come together and feel like a home again. On the anniversary of my husband’s death, I decided to take the day off work. I don’t allow myself most days to dwell on the fact he is gone. Of course, I think about him every day, but I don’t allow myself to stay in that emotion for too long because, honestly, I don’t like to break down in front of my kids. So, on this day off I let myself feel his absence. After I got the kids off to school, I came home and turned on some worship music and started cleaning. I know what you’re thinking, she had the day off and she cleaned? Cleaning helps me focus and it energizes me. I find an odd joy in seeing the floors and counters sparkle and shine. 

As I cleaned the kitchen, I praised God for our new-and-improved old house. I would never wish for a flood, but because of it, I was able to get all new tile, cabinets, matching appliances, brand new furniture, sparkling light fixtures, and beautiful new paint colors throughout the whole house. I finished cleaning and sat down to relax on the couch with some hot tea and the newspaper. I like getting my news from the newspaper rather than the TV or the internet because the newspaper allows me to filter out the things I don’t want to know about and it doesn’t yell at me as a TV does.

Shortly after eleven my friend, Rachel, brought over some lunch. As we sat at my kitchen table to eat, she looked around and simply said, “this is better.” I knew exactly what she meant. See, God doesn’t replace what we lose, He makes it better. The two of us reminisced about all the times in our life that what we thought would break us, only made us stronger. In our ten-year friendship we have both seen each other through many trials and heartbreaks, but every time we have been able to look back and say, “this is better.” 

I remember about four years ago when Rachel’s then sixteen-year-old daughter was going through a huge trial she said to me, “I wish things could go back to the way they were.” I told her then that things never go back to the way they once were, but I promised her that in time she would see that the good and healthy relationships would be restored and God would prune away the unhealthy things in her life. She is now able to look back and see how God took the mess and turned it into something better.

It is so hard in the middle of a trial to let go of the things that are comfortable and familiar. But when we put our faith in the hands of God, He can create something better.

Now, here’s the hard question some of you may be thinking: Is my life better without my husband? Maybe not, but I’m better because of everything I’ve gone through. I am more compassionate, more transparent, more humbled by the mercy of others, more patient, and I am definitely full of an unexplainable joy because of God’s love for me. I love telling people about the work God has done in my life because it is better.