LESSONS LEARNED IN THE MIDST OF TRAGEDY

Encouraging and inspirational.

Tracey L. Moore

I have something heavy on my heart to share today. Some of you may know, but many of you may not know, that recently I had a horrific tragedy happen in my life. I am a private person when it comes to my personal life, and for the most part, I don’t share personal life events on Facebook. As the Purposeful Poet, my goal is to encourage, uplift and inspire people to be their best for Christ. However, today I feel the Lord is leading me to share a painful portion of my journey with you, and I hope and pray that my testimony will help someone out there get through a difficult time in life or perhaps be set free in some way.

I want to tell you about my beloved, Steven Allen Williamson, Sr., one who  was very dear to me. We had known each other for almost…

View original post 1,009 more words

ThrowBackThursday: Little things remembered

It’s funny what you remember. I like to remember how he enjoyed his morning coffee. He would take his first sip with great expectation and enthusiasm. But then, that’s the way he approached almost everything.

What little things do you like to remember?

It’s been almost three years, now, since my life ended–my real life, that is. Of course, the world went on–just like before–but on the day my husband died, my life stopped.

Don’t get the idea that I went into my closet and never came out again–or, that I went to bed and cried 24/7. No, that wasn’t it at all. I was able to do all the right things, and I went through all the necessary tasks–one by one. To all appearances, I faced up to the fact that he was gone and was pretty much able to go forward. But really, that wasn’t the way it was at all.

If you are a widow, you probably know what I mean. Contrary to what people say, you don’t go on! Going on indicates that you were on a certain course, and then, continued on that course by yourself. No, that certainly is not the way it is. When your husband dies…You start over.

There is no way one person, who was part of a two-person unit, can go on. That would be like a bicycle trying to finish the race with only one tire. No, as a widow, I was no longer a part of a bicycle. I was now a unicycle. I might have been part of the best bicycle ever, but that didn’t prepare me for being a unicycle.

It has been a laborious, heart-wrenching struggle to be re-structured and squeezed into an new life–a life of one, not two. Blessedly, I am a Christian and it’s only been with God’s help that I’ve been able to stand.

I’m not sure why I feel led to share all this, but I hope that sharing my experience might be helpful in some small way to someone.