Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Lights go out...

Don't laugh, but I changed a ceiling light bulb for the first time in my life all by myself - no one to stop me from dropping the globe and breaking the glass dome thing! #impressedwithmyself It was simply was never my department. He could do it without standing on a chair.

After I changed that ceiling light bulb today, it occurred to me that this is the third burnt out bulb that I've changed since Pat passed away. One in the kitchen, one on the back porch (which turned out to be the light fixture and Bob put up a new one), and now this one in the living room. I really needed light for my project so I got the bench he made for me and stood on it. The most solemn sobering thought hit me. I was painting baseboards under that new light and I suddenly realized: Pat had never lived in that light. This light never touched his skin, lit his path or gave me light to see his face. One by one all the lights that he lived in and shared with me will go out. Lights we lived and worked in, kissed, hugged, cried and fought under. One by one, I'll be replacing bulbs and he will never share in this light with me.

Part of me is so very, very sad but there is bigger part of me that has no choice but to rejoice for him. In Revelations 22:5 the Word says, "There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever." Here I am, changing light bulbs, facing the strictures of time. Day. Night. Lights on, lights off. Pat is basking in the light of God's presence -- which never goes out.


Posted on Pat's wall:
I changed one of the ceiling light bulbs today. I could almost hear you telling me to wait until you got home and you would do it. It's the third light bulb I've had to change since you died. It occurred to me tonight that those were lights that shone on you. One by one all the light we shared will be gone; new bulbs and light you don't live in with me will eventually be in every room. I hate thinking that, but it is one of those truths that grabs me by the throat and squeezes the tears out of my eyes.

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