I think I made a mistake. I left home last week, quite spontaneously on Saturday morning feeling totally overwhelmed with grief. I simply had to have a break and chose to travel to ‘my special place’… I guess we all need one of those don’t we? Somewhere we’re comfortable, a place with good memories, and basically a safe harbour when the storms of life become a little too strong. My safe place is found away from home, living in my motorhome, preferably visiting Deal. When Jane was alive and fighting her cancer battle this is how we spent a lot of time. Of course the only really safe place is in the shelter that God provides, but often the challenge is in getting ourselves into the frame, as it were, where we can to meet with him. The voices of this world shout so very loudly and it’s not always easy to hear the Lord as he speaks with his gentle conviction to our hearts. The greatest privilege we can have is when Almighty God, the all-powerful, all knowing creator of the universe pays attention to our small lives and actually speaks to us. But quite rightly we have to put ourselves out by laying aside the things of this world and focussing upon him and only him. The Lord is in one sense a gentleman, he will never interfere with our free will and if we want to hold onto our personal ‘baggage’ that is up to us. So by travelling I sidestep the call of household disrepair, the frustration of unemployment and personal ill health, as well as concern for so many people I care about. And my time is the Lord’s and only his on my spiritual retreat.
Oh yes, the mistake… I’ve returned home too early. Although I’ve begun to feel a little better over the past couple of days I needed more time to finish meeting with the Lord. I started out for home and barely travelled 30 miles before I realised the tears were beginning to well up. I have too many memories to deal with and my love for Jane was total. Our time together over the past months and even years was intense and eventually almost 24/7 whenever hospital treatment allowed. It’s all too much again. I distracted myself with talk radio for a couple of hours and made it half way up the M1 before the tears started again and had to slow down then stop for a short break. Somehow the journey turned out to be in record time for my motorhome though, but after arriving home I broke down completely. All it took was the F1 racing, Jane always rooted for Lewis Hamilton, I have high regard for Jenson Button and today I almost turned to her to pass comment on the race… long time habits are so hard to break. My son was out for lunch and I was left alone with my memories once more and it hurts so very much even when concerned with a totally unimportant TV programme. Downton Abbey tonight won’t be the same without her by my side either. But nothing will, until I can move on, I have to keep saying goodbye to my lover though it still feels as though a physical chunk of my heart has been wrenched from inside me. I’ll have to get away again before the forecast early winter sets in and finish doing business with my God. I am determined to rebuild my life, I will be whole, and I will honour the Lord in every way I can. I’m far too young to call it a day and could easily have several more decades as an enthusiast for his Kingdom. But I miss my closest friend so very much today.
Proverbs 18:10 ‘The name of the LORD is a fortified tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.’ (NIV)
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