Seven Years

 

And my new favorite verse

Seven years of missing Ed.

Seven years of solo parenting.

Seven years of trying to hold it all together.

Always questions rolling, tumbling.

Did I pay the credit card bill?

When is the car inspection due?

Is she home yet?

Is that a leak under the fridge?

Seven years responsible for finances, home, children.

Seven years of pursing joy, cultivating contentment, accepting the hard.

Seven good years—God has met our needs,

we have been given so much by generous friends,

but nothing can replace Ed

I’m tired, weary of making decisions, of being in charge.

Last Sunday the minister asked us to turn to Genesis 2:18.

It is the words of God. “It is not good that the man should be alone.”

Not good. Does that mean bad? Wrong? Ugly?

It is the first negative words God spoke about His creation, His newly-crafted human.

Adam is in a perfect garden

He has no weeds, no leaking roofs, no car warning lights.

No taxes, no church issues, no phone plans.

No health concerns, no strained relationships, no parenting stress.

No guilt, no bad habits, no past trauma.

He only knows unbroken connection with His Maker—

And God says Adam is lonely?

God says Adam needs a Help Meet?

Relief floods me.

For seven years I’ve listened to an internal mantra,

“You are strong.”

“God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.”
“You can do this.”

For seven years—actually—for my whole life,

I’ve listed my worth by what I accomplish, what I give.

I’ve pursued productivity as a goal, a right, a duty.

My worst fear is to be a burden.

But to be a widow is to be needy, helpless, forced to receive.

I loved being Ed’s help meet, his partner, his wife.

Death pushed me into a role of leader that I never wanted.

When God says, “It is not good that man should be alone,”

Can I assume that means woman too?

That the weaker vessel can’t do life well alone?

Maybe I can lay down the pressure to be super mom,

quit pretending that I’ll ever be enough, do enough, have enough.

That being human is to be needy, not because of the Fall and death,

but built into human DNA since creation.

Maybe God wanted us to need each other

beginning all the way back in the garden.

I choose to believe what God says.

That neediness isn’t wrong.

And He’ll renew the strength of the weary. (Isaiah 40:31)

I may be needy, but in God

I have hope for the next seven years.