Furniture

 

TV unit is gone.  Let all the cords adorn the room. 

Three pieces left.  The old wrinkly leather, falling-apart recliner, the end table, and the dining room table.  These are the only remaining Bill-chosen, assembled, and attached-to pieces of furniture left in my home.  Last year, when I moved into this foreign country, several things didn’t fit like we’d planned.  So they made an abrupt departure and, in my daze, I hardly noticed.  Since then, other things have slithered away, the TV, shades, a lamp, even a car — each one taking a bit of my Bill with it.  Ooosh!  So hard.

 

Then yesterday, there went the way-too-big TV entertainment center.  I posted it for sale, secretly pricing and hoping no one would bite.  But a lady crunched.  I asked God if He was sure about this.  As I was awaiting His answer, a trucked backed into my driveway, the crunchers loaded the Bill-beauty and drove away.  Answered.

 

Why am I torn apart over a sale I advertised?  It doesn’t make sense.  Except that, little by little, sentiments are being replaced with God’s future for me.  This is all part of the good.  Get excited, heart.  Be glad.

 

OK.  I will.  But first, let me cry a bit.  Then remind me that temporary furniture can never contain nor replace the whole of a gift of a husband.  Furniture comes and goes, but Bill lives on in my heart.  Jesus sits, watches TV, and enjoys furniture with me.