A lot has transpired in the past 6 months. Life has been very busy and tiring with a toddler. Beyond that, I have gone through some more "refining" in my life. In the past almost 2 years now, I have accepted my widowhood, but I have never been content or happy with it. While I wasn't openly angry about it, nor did I "feel" angry, I manifested my anger by not giving in to the change in our family.
For starters, all the things that Rex did, I refused to do for at least 6 months. I didn't care that they didn't get done; it wasn't my job, and I wasn't doing them. Then, finally, I couldn't ignore it any longer; I wanted some of these things done, but I still was unwilling to do them myself. So, I recruited family members to do them for me. For a while, I also paid for outside help with these things. Then, again, I expected family to help me get them done. "After all, I had enough on my plate to do. I couldn't be expected to do everything. That's why God made husband and wife because the jobs were shared." Whether I admitted it or not, this was definitely my thinking.
My dad is still living and so when Rex died, I transferred some of my needs for security and protection back to him just like I did before I was married. For my dad, he didn't mind because he gets great fulfillment in being needed. So, we were peachy; I needed him and he liked being needed. I think in my mind, I thought that this was a temporary thing because I would eventually maybe re-marry, and then I would have someone to give me that security, stability, and protection. The girls would have a father figure in the home to look up to again. Without a doubt, my dad had become my crutch in transition. My prayer had even become, "Lord, please allow me to be re-married before you take my daddy." I couldn't bear the thought of losing him and being left alone.
God has a way of taking these crutches and kind of kicking them out from under us because He is a jealous God. He wants our dependence to be on Him. Exodus 34:14 For thou shalt worship no other god: for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God.
On May 16th, my dad quickly developed severe stomach pain and vomiting. He went to the emergency room. After tests, he learned that he had a bowel blockage. There was no warning signs that led up to this. I had seen him less than 12 hours earlier the night before, and he was fine. He slept fine. That morning, it all began after his morning coffee.
To say the least, my apple cart had been turned over. My grandmother on my father's side had gone through the same symptoms. When they performed surgery on her, she was eaten up with cancer in her intestines. She died a week later. Naturally, I was concerned that history was repeating with my dad.
I felt totally helpless with this new turn of events. What would I do? I had already been devastated with losing Rex. Being surrounded with people who loved me, particularly my dad, made it easier for me to bear.
After 3 days of lying in the hospital bed, the blockage had gotten worse. Surgery was going to have to be done. The surgeon removed about 2 feet of his intestines and sent pieces off to pathology, but he didn't feel that there was any cancer. It was an old fashioned surgery so he has a scar about 18 inches long. This invasive surgery also meant that the healing was going to be slower and longer.
I was very thankful that the pathology came back clean and that we were looking at recovery of abdominal surgery instead of embarking on a battle of cancer. At the same time, I realized more than ever that I didn't need to depend on him as much as I always had. I was going to have to make some changes in my life.
There have been times here and there over the past year when I would ask for instructions or directions on completing tasks that I had never done, and my dad's response was that he would take care of it. He was trying to take care of his daughter not trying to make her dependent. Through his surgery, he realized that he was getting older and that he needed to help me be more independent with things around the house. Quite frankly, he came face to face with his aging and mortality.
I don't like feeling helpless, but I also had not dealt with this silent anger of being left to manage everything that goes with a household and parenting. To put it bluntly, I had RIGHTS, and I shouldn't have to do it all by myself.
With my dad's surgery and weakened body, he wasn't going to be able to do most of the things he was accustomed to doing. I had not lost my dad, but I did lose my crutch. I was being forced to deal with my anger and rebellious heart.
This silent anger started raging inside of me and started to emerge. I was in the midst of softball season with 3 daughters playing on three different teams. I couldn't manage it by myself. My dad had been my primary help. We've been blessed with rain this season, which means more yard work. My dad had been doing that for me. I had mowed before, but I had never touched a weed eater. The garden was starting to grow. My dad and I shared the work, and he usually did much more than me. If something heavy needed to be lifted or moved, he was the brawn for it. Any time I needed something fixed, he was the fix-it guy. He has always fixed almost everything that ever broke for my entire life. He couldn't physically do that now. Now, all of a sudden, the central vacuum motor flew to pieces; the 35 year old dishwasher was majorly leaking and needs to be replaced. My lawnmower which I hadn't needed before wouldn't crank. Rex' truck won't crank. The home projects we had planned couldn't be done as scheduled.
With my anger emerging, I started venting, pouting, sulking, and having a pity party for myself. More than anything, I realized that Rex and my dad are/were true gentlemen to me. I expected there to be people to offer help without me asking for every little thing. I expected to be able to present a need and for someone to see that it was done without begging.
I began to try to take control and fend for myself out of anger. I gave several family members an ear full for not helping when I wanted or needed. I didn't want to manage it all by myself. I couldn't manage it all. Why couldn't they help me? If their yard needed mowing, couldn't they see that mine did too?
The final straw came last week with an incident that happened where I felt that I had been wronged. I was really angry about it. I tried to let it go, and I couldn't. I tried to confront it, and the conversation went in circles with no resolve. I tried to forget it, and I laid awake at night. I tried to force myself to let it go as one of those unfixable things, and I stayed angry. Honestly, this incident was not anything major; why did it affect me so sorely?
Then, I began to try to figure out what had bothered me so much about it. What was my anger rooted in? Why did I take such offense? I had no answers. I wanted to get to the bottom of it. I wanted a clear conscience. I would pick it up and think about it and then because I didn't have answers, I would again try to forget it.
This last Saturday, as I was studying for my Sunday School lesson, God gave me some answers. It had absolutely nothing to do with the lesson. I believe that God sometimes reveals truth in matters on our heart when we are seeking Him, even if it has nothing to do with what we are studying.
The reason I was so angry about this incident was ingrained in what I deemed as MY RIGHTS. For almost 2 years, I had been allowing this silent anger to reside in my heart because I had RIGHTS. I refused to do the things that Rex once did because it was my right to not have to do them. The reason I didn't ask for help is because I shouldn't have to. We should be able to live just like before because I didn't ask to be a widow; my kids didn't ask to be fatherless. We shouldn't have to change our ways to accomodate the change in our family. If my kids want to play ball, then they should get to play. Being a single parent shouldn't stand in the way. RIGHTS, RIGHTS, RIGHTS!!!
I have known for some time that anger is burrowed in claiming rights which is indicative of an ungrateful heart and a lack of contentment. I deserve this; I should have that. I shouldn't have to endure this. In the past year, I have tried to search my heart for rights that I had claimed; I even confessed in prayer that I wanted to give up my rights to the life that I thought I needed and wanted, but I still didn't see specific rights that I had claimed. It tooks my dad's hospitalization and surgery to bring this wound out in the open for me to see it clearly and deal with it. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.
Once I was able to identify the specifics, I was able to pointedly confess my sin, my selfishness, my ungratefulness and thank God for where He has put me in this time in my life.
Now, and only now, can I fulfill my responsibilities, balance my expectations, live with contentment, and recognize my privileges. If I truly believe that my life is not my own, if I genuinely think that my purpose in this life is to worship God and God alone, then I must be thankful for the suffering and pain, as well as, the blessing.
II Corinthians 1:5-7 5 You can be sure that the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ. 6 So when we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your benefit and salvation! For when God comforts us, it is so that we, in turn, can be an encouragement to you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. 7 We are confident that as you share in suffering, you will also share God's comfort.
God is good all the time.
Donna Meadows
