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.