She Was His Treasure
When we go through hard times, we learn. We learn a lot.
We are going to mess up. We are going to fall short. Missing the mark will happen countless times. It is important to remember, when we are in Christ, we are fully accepted and loved. When you feel like there is no way you can recover from a mistake, remember to look to Jesus. There is nothing you can do to change the past, or overhaul your life. You can’t force yourself to be more loving, humble or kind. He changes our hearts, so just run straight to Him. He is the one who will pick us up, remove the dirt from our teeth, and set us on our feet. But each time we start again, we will be a little wiser, a little more empathetic, and a lot more willing to give grace to others.
Going through trying circumstances makes us more compassionate.
I love talking with people who have lived through difficulty and have a story to tell. Their battle wounds are beautiful. Their tears are deep oceans. They have a true understanding of what is really important in life and can offer priceless perspective, if we just listen.
Last summer I made friends with an elderly man at the nursing home.
We were outside together, enjoying the sunshine and watching my toddler play in the fountain. He spoke of his wife, and his great love for her. She bore him 13 children. He said she was the best mother in the universe. Sadly, the oldest committed suicide, and the next one down was killed in a tragic accident. He said she never recovered, and at the end of her life it’s all she spoke of. He told me he felt badly that he had worked so much when their children were young and that he left her to take care of everything. He said he knew her job was much harder than his, and that he wasn’t the best father he could have been. He felt his son would still be alive had he tried harder. And then his wife’s heart wouldn’t have broken into a million pieces.
He felt if he could just go back in time, he would do things differently.
He would be more attentive and helpful. He would have spent more time with his kids. He said he missed out on so much. He didn’t mention his career or his education. All that mattered to him, at this point in his life, was his family.
His wife ended up in the very nursing home we were sitting in. He told me he would arrive every single day and walk her around town in her wheelchair. If it was cold, he’d just bundle her up and off they would go. She would beg him to take her home, but he couldn’t properly care for her. It killed him to see her pleading eyes, asking him to take her away.
He started to cry at this point in his story.
My breath caught as I saw him wringing his weathered hands together. He told me, with each step he took while pushing his wife’s wheelchair, he would pray he could make it up to her a little. He tried to do all he could to be there for her now. She was his treasure, he said. But he realized it too late. When she passed away, he felt she took half of him with her.
As he talked, we sat on a white wrought iron bench in the courtyard, and it felt so quiet.
I felt like he should be speaking to thousands, not just me! He words were so important, yet so few had heard them. He told me appreciating my husband was not enough. I had to make sure he knew I appreciated him. He said when it all comes down to it, it’s a husband and wife against the world. And they have to hold tight. He looked at me with piercing blue eyes. I told him he was a good husband to her in the end. Each time I saw him I gave him a hug, even though soon after, he didn’t know who I was.
Today I stopped in to say hello to him. His room was empty. His bed was made and all of his things were missing. I asked the nurse where he was, but they couldn’t share that information with me. I felt surprised over how sad it made me. I am pretty sure he is gone now, but his words will stick with me. And what he said mattered to me. He did make me stop and think about my marriage, and the gift that is truly is.
It’s the hard stuff that makes us become who we were intended to be.
It brings what is important to the surface, and the fluff just falls away. I don’t think I would have listened so closely if he was telling me jokes. It was the raw pain in his voice that made me pay attention. Nobody can argue with experience and the wisdom it so often brings.
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, 3 for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. 4 And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1: 2-4
