How This Blog Started 5 Years Ago

Dear Reader,

Here's the post that started this blog five ago. It's been a sacred privilege ever since to meet many widows, hear their amazing stories and see how the Lord sustains and encourages them through the dark days of grief. But the best part is the privilege of seeing how they learn that in Christ their grief gradually transforms to growth, and hope, and a sense of joy. They learn that peace and pain can co-exist. When God is their strength, gratitude can overcome grief. It's an amazing transformation and I am so blessed see it!

So please bear with me as I rewind this first post to consider how great God is, to honor my husband Bruce, and to commemorate this day. I told a friend yesterday that it doesn't hurt anymore, and I don't dwell on my loss, but I can never forget. I wouldn't want to forget, would you? Just as God told his people Israel to set up memorial stones on thier journey, this is my memorial.

Thank you for your kind thoughts and prayers today, and thank you for your part in the life of this blog, my book, and the groups on Facebook. Most of all I thank my Savior Jesus Christ who makes all things new.

♥ ferree

The Day Life Changed Forever

(originally posted Feb. 15, 2010)

Ten years ago this very day I woke up thinking it'd be like any other day, but I was a widow by suppertime. It's hard to believe it's been ten years. On one hand it seems like only yesterday, on the other it's like another lifetime. I was in the kitchen making a salad for supper.

"When's dinner?" Bruce asked.

Here's a "before" picture with me, the dog,
and Bruce on the top step.
Brooke, Brad and Lisa in front of us.

I told him we could have it whenever he wanted. We checked the time, talked about the schedule for the rest of the day, and decided he had time for a little weight-lifting workout downstairs. He gave me a hug--a deep, send-my-soul-to-the-stars sort of hug. It wrapped around eternity and intertwined pretty colors, sparkles and spirals all around me. I loved my husband, my kids, my life . . .

He went down to the basement, I heard a strange yell from him a few minutes later. I found him laying down on the floor--thought he was playing a joke on me.

But it wasn't a joke. My kids called 911, the squad came, the police came. They sent us upstairs. Carried Bruce out on a stretcher . . . a doctor met us in that "Quiet Room" at the hospital. (Don't ever go in there). And days later the autopsy showed a brain anuerism.

Life changed forever that day. Widowhood was nothing like I expected. The pain was so deep it was frightening; and then it went deeper still, to a place where tears watered tiny, dried up seeds of joy and strength. They grow well in the dark. You can't see them at first, can't imagine they'll ever appear . . .

That's what we'll talk about in this blog. The day it happened for you, the darkness, the seeds of faith that look pretty measly, the strength, and finally the joy. Plus the practical, the realities, the help . . .

Welcome to Widows Christian Place!