I moved this past weekend. I am officially connected to the internet, so for me, it means I’m settled. Therefore, instead of unpacking a few more boxes, I’m sitting at the computer getting my writing therapy fix.
When you move you make choices. You can just take it all and go through it at the new location, or you can purge, clean and leave a few things behind. Because my son continues to live in my old house, I have the luxury of taking my time in deciding what to bring and what to leave. (He’s getting some unexpected extra wedding presents, obviously).
I grabbed an old picture of our family from a Christmas past. Not one of my favorite ones, but one that was loved just the same. I noticed as I moved the frame that there was another picture behind ours. It was of my dear husband–sitting in an antique car with a big grin on his face. I had to think about where he was when it was taken, and remembered that he had traveled to Kentucky to speak in a church. The couple who hosted him had a beautiful home and antique cars. I didn’t travel with Raouf on that trip, but remember him talking about how nice the couple was and how they pampered their missionary speaker. I recall how happy he was telling me about all the things he did and saw. It was a fun trip for him. He’d been blessed and ministered to by others.
Now as I sit in my new house where Raouf has never been, I think about the places he went without me. He allowed himself to enjoy life, and I know he would want me to enjoy life too, even though I so long to tell him about my day, what I like about my new place, what the boys are doing. That will have to wait. I know he’s really enjoying life now with Jesus, wearing an even bigger smile on his face as he enjoys the presence of his Savior. I look forward to that day myself.
I didn’t cry at all my last few days in the last place we lived together. I kept thinking…it’s just one of many houses we lived in temporarily. And, while it seems strange to be sleeping in a place he’s never entered, I cannot help but feel his presence in all the furniture he made. His touch is everywhere. I only cry now, while I write, because it just comes. That’s grief.
I think I will keep this happy picture on my new desk (made by my favorite youngest son) to remind me that Raouf would want me to smile and enjoy life. God would want that too. So…I will.
Grace and Peace
2 thoughts on “The picture under the picture”
Such beautiful memories. What a fun story to hear of others ministering to Raouf and of him having such fun 😊Praying God’s blessings on you in your new home 💕.
Thank you, Blythe.