(While the irony that Josh nor I have a love for Facebook (especially Josh) is not lost on me, I tried to post this there first as it seemed the easiest and most accessible. However, facebook is apparently offended by my 6 yr absence and I am banned, seemingly permanently. I am ok with this. (And can’t help but wonder if Josh isn’t behind it….) Anyway, here goes…):
It’s been 2 weeks (already!/only?!) since Josh was taken to Heaven, and the reality that I won’t see him again here earth-side is really sinking in, the heartbreak all too real and repeated. While he had worked out of town many times throughout our marriage, we always had consistent phone calls and text messages, so this is the longest stretch I’ve known without any contact. And it hurts.
As many know, Josh was a great listener, as evidenced by those who still message his phone while knowing there will not be a response (or, at best, a mediocre response from me and from my own phone -sorry for this). He was the epitome of a “cheerful giver”, as we are all called to be, and gave his time freely to family and friends, as well as folks in our community who he worked for/helped out. Even when he wasn’t with folks directly he would express his concerns to me, always wanting to ensure the people in his life were taken care of, regardless of whether it was friends, family, acquaintances (I think God must have expanded the time continuum often to accommodate this). (This being said, when we initially received his diagnosis he was adamant that, “if I end up in hospice I do not want any visitors”. I asked a bit more regularly in his last weeks, just to be sure, and nothing had changed.)
Right until Josh’s last days here he still gave the glory to God. With increased daytime sleeping, I would still hear him utter “Hallelujah, hallelujah!” with enthusiasm and love. And while we weep for our loss and that of a young life taken, a life who has touched so many, please know that he didn’t give up nor “lose his fight” to cancer. Cancer is not bigger than God and Josh knew that. God could have healed him any time, as we prayed for, but sometimes His plan differs from what we want, hope for, and even expect. I don’t know why Josh. And when I have moments of weakness and forget that He has instructed us not to lean on our own understanding, I ask. And I am reminded of the verse that Josh pointed out to me a year ago when his Mom was fighting her own battle, and came up again when we started this journey:
Isaiah 55:8-9
8 “For my thoughts
are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord.
9 “For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And my thoughts than your thoughts.
I was with him until minutes before he left and, although he had expressed many times throughout the journey that he wanted to continue to be a husband and father, in the end he was inevitably called home. And he had peace about it.
Josh (& God) gave me the four greatest gifts I ever could have asked/hoped for, in our children. We all just got back from a trip to the Island -our family’s “Disneyland”- to spread some of Josh’s ashes. It only made sense to go to the places we took our first trip together, had our honeymoon, and made many memories with countless family trips. It was really special, very emotional, but a great way to honor Josh as a family in a way he would have appreciated (and approved of;)).
Nearly half of my life was spent with him building our lives and family together and, (despite our differences;)), he was my other half. So while my heart is shattered right now from the Josh-shaped hole in my house, heart, and life, I take comfort in knowing that he IS restored and healed, as we prayed for. He is more alive now than ever, and this place in time here is not forever – it just sometimes feels that way, especially in our grief.
Lara
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