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  • Writer's pictureAimee Williams

Lying on our Grave

          Mid-run on this unseasonably warm day I stopped to take a breather above the place where my husband’s body lies. I’ve outlived him by three years now. Strange feeling. His body was below me, but he’s not here in the ground, not really.            I can’t hold his hand anymore, can’t make him laugh. When I pound the pavement he’s not here beside me. When I’m in our bed waking from a nightmare, he’s not there to pray for me. His spirit’s not here with me as I care for our girls and I don’t believe he’s looking down at me. He’s in heaven and he’s still my Chris, but in a body that is whole. The doctors and nurses couldn’t heal the kind of injuries he sustained but the Lord could and did.           If Chris could see me, well, some days I think he’d be proud. On other days he wouldn’t, but I believe he would see his beautiful bride Aimee. He would have compassion on her and the trauma that had led her to desperation. As he did in real life when I was in a bad state, he would seek to bring me healing. He would hold me in his arms and in certain moments, might not even speak. He would tell me I was loved. He would pray for me. And then rarely, only in the darkest of dark times, he would cry with me as he clung to me, my head to his heart.           He was good at reminding me that this pain, no matter the depth, was temporary. Gently, so gently, he would help me to see that a new day would come. “Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.” Psalm 30:5b (NLT) “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23 (NIV) 

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