We were at a convention of some sort. Bruce and I met up only for a moment and then Bruce went with the men to their sleeping quarters, and I was taken with the ladies to our dorm. The women talked of things like the best kind of natural shampoo, etc, and I took part, but I was discontent, feeling that it was a very empty conversation.
All I wanted was to spend fifteen or twenty minutes resting my head on my husband's shoulder, discussing the day with him, planning what we would do the next day and just feeling each other's presence. But he was off somewhere with the men, and I had no access to that shoulder or the conversation that I so desperately wanted.
I wondered if we could scrape together enough cash to get a motel room close by; anything that would let me have that time with him. But then I awoke and realized that no money in the world would give me that time with my husband.
I pushed myself out from beneath my warm quilts to greet the shock of the cold room. I stirred the dying embers in the wood stove and added some kindling. It would eventually ignite from the sparks still visible in the firebox . While I was waiting, I sat down at my organ. The hymn book was open to the song I had been playing the night before.
"No, Never Alone"
It hit me then. Those words just seemed to leap off the page and sink into my soul.
Bruce and I had spent 47 years together; 47 years of ups and downs, of good days and bad, but through those years a love developed that transcended all our differences.
It took 47 years to build that camaraderie that I was missing so desperately. And 47 years is a long time.
And yet there is Someone who has been with me for even longer than that. He has never left me for even a second, and even when I have neglected Him, His love has stayed strong, and He has waited patiently for me to return my focus on Him. And over the years we have been building up a relationship that goes beyond human comprehension.
There are times when I get doing my own thing, and we seem to get separated by the circumstances around me. And during those times I find myself dissatisfied with the lack of depth in my life. I look for ways to fill that emptiness but nothing helps. That's when it dawns on me, I haven't spent enough time resting on His shoulder, talking from my heart to the Love of my life.
As the kindling in my wood stove ignites and the roaring blaze begins to lift the chill from the air, my heart also warms, and the crying stops. No, I am Never Alone. Thank You my precious Savior and Best Friend!
For the next post see: Forty Eight Years Ago Today
For the previous post see: So much for letting the grief seep