Planning a Future
I was a wife, a stepmother, a grandmother. I was the woman behind the man. I was his partner in business. I was the woman he'd planned to retire with, build a home with, travel with. We were going to Europe. I'd been there before, but with him, I'd see it differently. So many plans for the future. And then one day, in the blink of an eye, it was all gone.
I came across a sheet of paper. On it, I found my husbands familiar handwriting. And on the paper were plans for our future--things like, retiring at 65, buying a house in Arizona, getting a summer cottage, exercise to get in shape. It was a page long. I sat looking at it, tears running down my face, and asked myself, what now? What am I suppose to do with all of this? All our plans. All gone. And no time to get used to the idea of a future alone.
I'm a Christian. I wear it on my sleeve. And I asked God a question. Why were we allowed to make so many plans if it was not to be? You see, so much of my time with my husband was spent planning for the future. He was a Financial Analyst and cared greatly about having enough money for our retirement. And he wanted to leave the business to our grandchildren. He saw his profession as a way to help people to realize their goals and dreams. He used to lecture his daughter on saving for the future. And we saved too, but not enough. I was living for the moment most of my life, traveling the world. Buying things I didn't need. I fully intended to spend every dime I had before I died. That all changed when I married DH. I became more frugal, yet the future seemed elusive even then.
Tonight, God answered my question. Why were we allowed to make plans for the future if it was not to be? Well it was a fallacy on our part. God tells us not to worry about what we will eat. To leave it to him. He tells us that the birds of the air do not worry. So the future we should have spent more time thinking about should have been our future in Heaven. The financial part should have played a smaller role. In short, we planned for the wrong future. But even realizing this it's hard to do.
I thought about it. Magazines, newspapers, television, all talking about the same thing: retirement, telling us how we need a million dollars to retire. Yet few speak of the real future we have with God. And when a person passes, we're left empty, looking at plans that will never occur. Asking God why. Looking at the door as if our spouses might return, allowing us to resume our previous happy lives.
I've spent hours thinking about our business trips and the people we met. Yet, I'm not a part of this world anymore and no one calls. Now, I'm faced with the reality that the only time I will ever see my husband again is in the next world. He's not here anymore. Instead I have diplomas, pictures, and the certificates he earned and cared so much about. I wear his wedding ring on my finger, still his wife, although my vows said until death do we part. I see his daughter, young, feeling abandoned and her children who will not remember the great man he truly was. My grief is profound because I can't make my intellect match what I know as a child of God.
I miss him terribly.
So now, I look to the true future. And when I'm feeling vulnerable, when I walk into my darkened apartment and feel the emptiness crash upon me, I turn to the Book of Revelation, and wait for Jesus to call me Home.
I came across a sheet of paper. On it, I found my husbands familiar handwriting. And on the paper were plans for our future--things like, retiring at 65, buying a house in Arizona, getting a summer cottage, exercise to get in shape. It was a page long. I sat looking at it, tears running down my face, and asked myself, what now? What am I suppose to do with all of this? All our plans. All gone. And no time to get used to the idea of a future alone.
I'm a Christian. I wear it on my sleeve. And I asked God a question. Why were we allowed to make so many plans if it was not to be? You see, so much of my time with my husband was spent planning for the future. He was a Financial Analyst and cared greatly about having enough money for our retirement. And he wanted to leave the business to our grandchildren. He saw his profession as a way to help people to realize their goals and dreams. He used to lecture his daughter on saving for the future. And we saved too, but not enough. I was living for the moment most of my life, traveling the world. Buying things I didn't need. I fully intended to spend every dime I had before I died. That all changed when I married DH. I became more frugal, yet the future seemed elusive even then.
Tonight, God answered my question. Why were we allowed to make plans for the future if it was not to be? Well it was a fallacy on our part. God tells us not to worry about what we will eat. To leave it to him. He tells us that the birds of the air do not worry. So the future we should have spent more time thinking about should have been our future in Heaven. The financial part should have played a smaller role. In short, we planned for the wrong future. But even realizing this it's hard to do.
I thought about it. Magazines, newspapers, television, all talking about the same thing: retirement, telling us how we need a million dollars to retire. Yet few speak of the real future we have with God. And when a person passes, we're left empty, looking at plans that will never occur. Asking God why. Looking at the door as if our spouses might return, allowing us to resume our previous happy lives.
I've spent hours thinking about our business trips and the people we met. Yet, I'm not a part of this world anymore and no one calls. Now, I'm faced with the reality that the only time I will ever see my husband again is in the next world. He's not here anymore. Instead I have diplomas, pictures, and the certificates he earned and cared so much about. I wear his wedding ring on my finger, still his wife, although my vows said until death do we part. I see his daughter, young, feeling abandoned and her children who will not remember the great man he truly was. My grief is profound because I can't make my intellect match what I know as a child of God.
I miss him terribly.
So now, I look to the true future. And when I'm feeling vulnerable, when I walk into my darkened apartment and feel the emptiness crash upon me, I turn to the Book of Revelation, and wait for Jesus to call me Home.
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