Dearest Rachel –
While going through the stuff in the laundry room outside our bedroom, I found this post-it note attached to the corner of the mirror. It was a bit out of my line of site, but you must have had it there by the sink to remind you to offer this prayer as you got yourself ready in the morning.
I take it that these were your own words, as you seem to have had a habit of citing sources when you were quoting other people (at least, from the sermon and other notes I’ve been picking up over the past couple of weeks and filed away to be posted later on upcoming Sundays).
If so, this is something that doesn’t really belong as a mere Sunday post. This was something you offered up on an everyday basis, and probably best belongs here, on a Monday morning, as the high of worship and rest wear off, and you began your ordinary week with an ordinary day, and an ordinary prayer… to be extraordinary through His power to follow His will.
It’s something I rarely thought to pray, for my own part. Sure, I would ask Him to show me His will and help me walk in it, but to so simply ask for the ability to surrender to Him… no, not so much. I need to remember this, too.
So, instead of filing this with the rest of the notes you’ve written, I’m keeping this up on the mirror, in a more prominent place so I can see it. I may not notice it every day, but on the days I do see it, I promise to remember to ask for that ability to surrender goign forward.
It seems I’ve had to surrender so much these past couple months, starting with you, and moving on to so much else, and I have been resistant to these changes, inevitable and necessary though they might have been. Woe is me, if I am fighting against God with this resistance!
But with this small single prayer – assuming I mean it when I say it – perhaps I will be able to remind myself to “let go, and let God.” Just like you tried to remind yourself.
Not that you necessarily achieved that level of surrender, necessarily, but at least you knew to ask. Which just goes to show, you truly were the ‘better half’ of our relationship. Some men may make jokes using that phrase, but I maintain it was the truth in ours. And while I knew it even while you lived, I’m finding more and more proof like this as I go on afterwards. Like Gunga Din, you were a better man than I am.
May I, with His help and guidance, be a better man going forward.
And thank you, honey , for the reminder to ask.