For many years  I had sung a song at church that continuously brought peace to my heart.  “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? …not tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril or sword…”

I had nothing to fear because I had the love of Christ.

The word “SEPARATE” took on a whole new meaning when Loren died.  In fact, a few times I, in deep confidence with two friends, shared how SEARINGLY PAINFUL the separation from him was.   Of course, the entire life altering event was horrific, the loneliness was debilitating, and the ongoing shock knocked me to the ground……… I felt as if a bear had his mouth gripped on one shoulder and a lion on the other side….their teeth crunched in to my flesh…. yanking…..stretching the tissue…..breaking bones and pulling shoulder joints out of their sockets.  My internal vital organs were being destroyed. The weight of the physical pain was cruel. 

It’s real.  I testify that the marriage ceremony is a miracle.  Not only do we pledge our vows before God and man… we can become one.  Those of us who were able to live the fruits of a marriage that lasted over 20 plus years, we testify to this.  Those of us who lost our spouses quickly understood the power of the spoken vows and the ability we had had to become one.

It makes sense that unrequested separation feels savage.

So this is MY personal revision of Romans 8:35. 

“Who shall separate Julia from the love of Christ?”

“(1)  Not the death of my spouse  (2) not the upheaval of my family’s life because of his death  (3)  not the sometimes not-so-quiet judgements from onlookers as they question a few decisions I’ve had to make  (4)  not the silent anger I initially  felt towards God because He allowed my husband to die so young  (5)  not the revolving mild depression a widow cycles through on Anniversary months  (6) not the tearful times of just wishing I could discuss a current situation with my deceased spouse  (7)  not the lonely moments when I’ve gone to the Specialist for a possible serious diagnosis  (8)  not the underlying sense of unsafety as I drive a 60 mile distance towards home at midnight (9) not the toll of the emotional weight that the newly-single-life can bring  (10) not the random  financial concerns when vehicles and furnaces need repair.” 

“Even though Julia’s cares are periodically very real, she ultimately has nothing to fear because she has the Love of Christ. “