Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down (A Carpenter song)

The weather has changed to fall. Days are cooler, the sun sets earlier and rises later. I suppose some feelings of melancholy are inevitable. Soon it will be three months since Walter passed. I am missing him more each day. The rainy days seem so much more lonely and quiet. The thunder fills the house with empty echos. I curl up and cuddle up to a pillow instead of him. However, God has planned a change.

My son and his family with my two very active grandchildren will be moving in with me for awhile. There are a lot of reasons for this and it seems like this is the best solution for everyone concerned. Still, it will be an adjustment. I will be giving up my quiet and solitude. It will be harder to have privacy and quiet. I will need to find a place of sanctuary within my home. This is a place I can retreat to find my inner peace and listen to God and knit away my thoughts and dreams.

Much has to be done to get ready to have five more people living in the home. I will have to buckle down and get rid of the lifetime of accumulated things. I have saved them, hoping to have them useful someday. I’ve come to a point in my life that “someday” is now past. The things have outlived their usefulness and now these things are just in the way. With Walter’s death, it has become very enlightening to me that you can’t take these “things” with you when you die, so why am I keeping them? Yes, some things are still sentimental and I keep a few because they hold a special memory tied to them. So…..I will be passing some of those “things” around…..some to those who have their own memories to keep and remember, and to those who will make new memories of the “things”.

My new focus will be people and relationships, not “things”. God will provide what I need. He always has. This focus was not easy before, as Walter was somewhat anti-social, but God has given me a second chance to “serve mankind”. I find a lot of comfort in knowing that God isn’t finished with me yet and I must not give up hope. I still can do some service in this world, whether it be in my work, in my friendships or in any other encounter. I am sure God will lead me to the opportunities to minister to people and in this process, I will find a healing from my grief. I have always felt better to be needed and feel an increased self-esteem if I can fill a need.

So as I contemplate the “rainy days and Mondays”, I have hope that after the rain, there will always come the sunshine, and I will be on “the top of world” (a Carpenter song) looking, not down as a God would, but “over” as a helping partner. This is my dream. Is it too much to ask for?