the waves of pain threaten to engulf me …
Draw me to the tranquil waters of Your peace.
When the rocks cause me to stumble and fall …
Let Your light guide me safely along the path.
Lead me to the stillness, be my consolation,
Guide me to the haven of Your Sacred Heart.
In the name of the Father, and the Son,
and the Holy Spirit, Amen
INTRODUCTION
"Till death parts us." No matter how long ago you made this promise, in the end the vows resound in your head with crystal clarity. Circumstances do not change the finality of it. Whether your loss happened without warning, or was the final, inevitable conclusion of a prolonged period of suffering, death is as relentless as the tide.
The most amazing part of losing a spouse is that, somehow, life does go on. The flowers have wilted, the casserole dishes are washed and returned, the headstone has been set on the grave. The condolence cards have been taken from the mantle, and the thank-you notes that kept you busy during those first sleepless nights have been posted.
What happens next? The course ahead of you may still be unclear. And so, we begin this "widow's walk." This prayer journal will help you to draw from a rich treasury of spiritual graces: Scriptures, quotes from and stories about the saints, and other prayers and reflection questions that will lead you to draw closer to Jesus, our Second Bridegroom, and His mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary. She is a model for us, having experienced during her lifetime the loss of her beloved spouse.
At this moment, what would you say are three concerns or questions pressing most urgently upon your heart?
Mother Mary, you understand the soul-rending grief of widowhood. Pray for me now, that I might have the courage to face the challenges ahead. Help me to remain open to everything God wants me to learn in this new chapter of my life.
Heavenly Father, I abandon myself to Your boundless mercy. Give me strength to follow You, even when the way is hard to see. Thank You for all the ways You show Your love to me, especially … [Name some of them here.]
CHAPTER ONE
CRY OF INJUSTICE
The First Station
Jesus is Condemned to Death
Mary…
Your Son, who was to be judge of all the living and the dead, stood before a Roman judge and received an unjust sentence. Though you knew He was the "suffering servant" prophesied by Isaiah, did you wonder why He had to suffer this humiliation and in this way?
As widows, we sometimes question God's providence - and His love for us.
Why did that drunk driver who killed my husband survive? Why did God permit that doctor's mistake?
Was there anything done - or left undone - that hastened the day or the hour?
Why did my husband have to die instead of me?
Holy Mary, pray for us … now and in the hour we cry for justice.
Jesus, You are the Lord of my life. I know that You permit only those things from which You can bring good. Help me to trust that even the day and the hour of my husband's death was known to You, and that he is enfolded in Your Sacred Heart now as then.
What aspects of God's permissive will do I still find it difficult to accept in my grief?
Walk with me, Jesus … (insert your own prayer here)
PSALM 97:1-6
The Lord is king; let the earth rejoice
let the many isles be glad.
Clouds and darkness are round about him,
justice and judgment are the foundation of his throne.
Fire goes before him
and consumes his foes round about.
His lightnings illumine the world;
the earth sees and trembles.
The mountains melt like wax before the Lord
before the Lord of all the earth.
The heavens proclaim his justice,
and all the peoples see his glory.
How does this passage speak to me today? How can I apply it to my life?
Lord, I present myself to You. Today I choose to rejoice and to look for Your glory.
WHISPERS OF WIDOWHOOD: RONDA'S STORY
You have sent me misery and hardship,
but you will give me life again,
you will pull me up again from the depths of the earth,
prolong my old age, and once more comfort me.
Psalm 71:20-21
(The Jerusalem Bible)
I became a widow on October 9, 1993. I was fifty-six when my husband, Martin Chervin, died suddenly of cardiac arrest. He was seventy-four. At the time we were living in Woodland Hills, California, in an extended family home with one of my twin daughters, Carla; her husband, Peter; and two of our little grandsons, Nicholas and Alexander.
The prospect of becoming a widow was not new to me. After all, I had married a man nearly twenty years my senior; early in our marriage I had acknowledged the possibility that I might be a widow one day. However, Martin was a man with incredible vitality and joie de vivre. We always joked that, compared to him, I was the oldster because of my sedentary, professorial lifestyle.
Unfortunately, the reality was very different. Only a few years after our marriage in 1962, my husband