There are no words to describe what has happened and is happening within me since Carlin’s illness and passing! I miss Carlin. That doesn’t tell adequately or accurately what it is.
I experience times of such amazing peace and assurance it thrills me, and I know it is my tender Father’s care. I praise Him for His Spirit within me! There are tears. Memories. Unbelief that he is really gone. And I always come back to thinking how committed Carlin was to serving God, and accepting every opportunity as God‘s appointment. In his last two months, just before the diagnosis, I wondered at a reluctance to accept opportunities and decided he was tired from the mountains of things we did in the last six months. Perhaps he was realizing he was not well. I chose to believe the Father looked down from Heaven and said, “OK Carlin, everything I had planned for you to be and do is accomplished, come on Home!”
Oh, I have received such precious letters and cards and notes! I have had such wonderful times with dear friends who come to visit. And times with dear neighbors. Laughter and sadness. Again, inadequacy to describe. Joy. Praise.
The following poem came in a card a few days ago from a dear elderly friend, written out in script:
The things you loved I have not put away
To molder in the darkness year by year
The songs you sang, The books you read
Each day are all around me, intimate and dear.
I do not keep your chair a thing apart,
Lonely and empty—desolate to view
But if one comes a-weary, sick at heart
I seat him there and comfort him for you.
I do not go apart in grief and weep
For I have known your tenderness and care;
Such memories are joys, that we may keep
And so I pray for those whose lives are bare.
I may not daily go and scatter flowers where you are sleeping
Neath the sun and dew
But if one lies in pain through weary hours
I send flowers there, dear heart, for you.
Life claims our best, you would not have me waste
A single day in selfish idle woe,
I fancy that I hear you bid me haste
Lest I should sadly falter as I go.
Perchance so much that now seems incomplete
Was left for me in my poor way to do,
And I shall love to tell you when we meet—
That I have done your errands, dear, for you!
Martha Snell Nicholson
Here is a letter I received last week from a dear friend that was so tender. He eloquently expressed words from a heart that knows how to comfort. People who pray are so precious. I am indebted to all the folks who have prayed and are praying. How else would I know such comfort?
Here is part of his letter:
I want you to know that I am available whenever you need me. You can let me know if there is a good time to do something for you. I am happy to come down to the cottage. If you just want me to send you some instructions on how to do something on the computer or BB, I can do that as well. I want so very much to be helpful but without being a bother. There is no rush on anything so we can do things as it works best for you.
I wish there was more I could do to help during this time. I will keep on praying. I will pray that you will feel our heavenly Father's loving arms embrace you. May He hold you up when you lack the strength to stand. May He carry you when you lack the strength to walk. May He weep for you when your eyes have run out of tears. May He bring you rest when the weariness provides none. May He bless you and keep you close always.
We love you a lot Marcia. We miss Carlin too.