In the year 2001, my late husband and I set eyes on each other for the first time, on July 27th. What was supposed to be a casual coffee with a mutual friend turned, unexpectedly, into a blind date. Our friend cancelled moments before. Too late to back out.
I remember thinking, “Nice try, but it’s not going to work.” And yet, a day later, the blind date turned into a dinner. And that dinner turned into years of blessings showered upon us by God.
Then dementia came. Quietly at first. Then cruelly.
Since his passing, I’ve found myself walking a path of painful remembering. These memories—once golden—now flicker like beacons in the mist. They guide. They haunt. They remind me that love was real, and so was the loss.
I ask often: What is the purpose of life’s pain? Is God’s hand in this beacon of memory? How do we, in faith, move forward when the past sings so loudly?
And I find myself in constant reminders… The memories—those beacons—aren’t here to haunt. They’re here to teach. To testify. To reflect back the magnitude of shared love and resilience.
Scripture reminds us in Romans 8:28 that ‘in all things God works for the good of those who love Him.’ That doesn’t mean the pain is erased, but that even in sorrow, God is present, weaving healing and purpose through broken threads.
Perhaps the invitation isn’t to let go, but to make peace. And maybe, moving on isn’t forgetting—it’s allowing joy to walk beside grief, not replace it.
So I write. I remember. I pray. I invite God into the grief. And I am learning to leave space for laughter to return (still a slow process…), not because he is forgotten, but because he taught my heart how to feel joy in the first place.
If you are walking this road too, I say this with trembling grace: You are not alone.
Share Your Heart
Have you stood in the quiet of memory, wondering about the beacons in your life? I’d love to hear your story. Whether you’re remembering a cherished soul, questioning purpose, or simply reflecting on faith—leave a comment below. Your words could be the very comfort someone else needs today. Let’s journey with wisdom, together.
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