A Life in Exile

Some things just throw you off in the grief walk, and even when it’s not as devastating as during the early days, you still feel it. Over a week ago, I switched phones. I liked my phone, but it was always getting full, so my sweet eldest son offered me his old one with lots of space.

I should have known better than to have made the switch myself and late at night. Neither things bode well for a clear mind. Knowing that I had little on my phone to lose, I went ahead and activated the new device without doing a blue-tooth transfer of data. I knew what I’d done when I turned on the new phone. My messages were gone.

In general, I don’t keep messages. I’m so used to trying to keep my phone cleared of space, that I delete most everything on a regular basis, except for one conversation — with my husband. Almost four years old, I had managed not to delete it until now. It was a comfort for me to be able to scroll down to the bottom of my messages and find his picture along with the last few conversations we had, including my last message to him, which read, “Where are you?”

I didn’t cry, but even now I can’t help but miss his face on my phone. It was a connection, a conversation, something of him that could stay with me when everything else was gone.

I mark it up to just another part of the grief process, like memories that grow dim and the inability to remember the sound of his voice or touch.

So, I sigh and keep going, glad to be able to write down my thoughts to add to the many others that have come over the months and years. Write them down and move on, letting grief take its course.

Have you lost something lately that’s left a hole in your spirit? It’s alright to let it hurt but also make sure to let it heal. Both are good for the soul. Both can be used by God to allow us to speak into the lives of others for his glory.

Grace and Peace