Sometimes the stories that change our lives begin with a simple โno,โ months of waiting, and a God who never stopped preparing our hearts.
โCan we take a pictureโฆ just in case someday weโd want to look back on it?โ
That was Raymondโs idea.
We had just spent five and a half hours talking over dinner, and as we were getting ready to leave, he smiled and asked if we could take one picture before we said goodbye.
At the time, it felt like such a simple moment.
Neither of us knew what tomorrow would hold.
Neither of us knew if weโd ever see each other again.
We certainly had no idea that one ordinary picture would eventually become one of the most meaningful photos on my camera roll.
Today, every time I look at it, I donโt just remember our first date.
I remember every prayer that led me there.
Every tear.
Every sleepless night.
Every question I wrestled with.
Every moment I almost turned around.
Because the truth isโฆ
I almost never met Raymond.
Not because he wasnโt worth getting to know.
But because I wasnโt sure my heart would ever be able to say yes to another chapter.
If youโve walked with me over the last two years, you know that this story didnโt begin with Facebook Dating.
It didnโt begin with a first message.
It didnโt begin with a first date.
It began the day my world changed forever.
When Quintin went to Heaven, it felt like the future we had dreamed about disappeared with him.
The plans we had made.
The grandchildren we imagined.
Growing old together.
Traveling after the kids were grown.
Sitting on the porch one day, laughing about everything weโd survived together.
In one moment, all of those dreams suddenly looked different.
For a long time, I wasnโt trying to figure out what was next.
I was simply trying to survive what had happened.
Some mornings, getting out of bed felt like an accomplishment.
Some days, making dinner for my kids required every ounce of strength I had.
Some nights, after everyone else had gone to sleep, Iโd sit in the quiet and wonder if life would ever feel normal again.
Grief has a way of changing everything.
It changes how you celebrate birthdays.
It changes holidays.
It changes ordinary Tuesday afternoons.
It even changes the way you think about tomorrow.
One of the hardest parts wasnโt just losing my husband.
It was losing the person who knew me better than anyone else.
The one who celebrated my victories before anyone else did.
The one who could make me laugh with nothing more than a look across the room.
The one who had been my teammate, my person since I was sixteen years old.
There is a loneliness that comes with widowhood thatโs difficult to explain unless youโve lived it.
Itโs not simply the absence of another person.
Itโs the absence of the life you thought you would always have.
I missed conversations that no one else would understand.
I missed hearing, โHow was your day?โ
I missed reaching for a hand that wasnโt there anymore.
I missed having someone who knew the history behind every story and every scar.
And if Iโm honestโฆ
There were moments when I wondered if this was simply what the rest of my life would look like.
Not because I had stopped believing in God.
But because I couldnโt imagine what another future could possibly look like.
I wasnโt asking God for another relationship.
I wasnโt asking Him to bring someone into my life.
Most days, I wasnโt even thinking that far ahead.
God was preparing me for a chapter I never would have written for myself
I was praying much simpler prayers.
โLordโฆ help me get through today.โ
โGive me strength for my kids.โ
โHelp me trust You when I donโt understand.โ
Looking back now, I can see that while I was asking God to help me surviveโฆ
He was quietly doing something much deeper.
He wasnโt just carrying me through my grief.
He was slowly healing places in my heart that I thought would stay broken forever.
I couldnโt see it then.
Healing rarely feels dramatic while itโs happening.
Most of the time, it looks like taking one faithful step after another.
Showing up.
Praying.
Going to church even when your heart feels heavy.
Choosing gratitude on days when sorrow feels easier.
Trusting God with questions that donโt have immediate answers.
Little by littleโฆ
Without me even realizing itโฆ
Not by asking me to forget where Iโd been.
Not by erasing the beautiful life Quintin and I shared.
But by gently reminding me that He is still the Author of every chapter of my story.
And long before I ever met Raymondโฆ
Long before I downloaded Facebook Datingโฆ
Long before I ever said yes to dinnerโฆ
God had already begun writing this story.
The Internal Battle
Bible Verse Esther 4:14
If youโve never been widowed, itโs difficult to explain what happens inside your heart when someone mentions dating again.
Most people assume the hardest part is meeting someone new.
For me, that wasnโt the hardest part at all.
The hardest part was giving myself permission to even consider the possibility.
It wasnโt because I didnโt believe God could write another chapter.
It was because I loved the one He had already written so much.
I wasnโt looking for someone to replace Quintin.
No one ever could.
We had spent more than thirty years building a life together. We grew up together. We raised four incredible children together. We dreamed about becoming grandparents together. We talked about growing old together.
That kind of love doesnโt disappear because someone dies.
It simply changes.
It becomes memories.
It becomes gratitude.
It becomes grief.
And eventually, if youโll let God work, it becomes part of the foundation that teaches you how deeply youโre capable of loving.
Long before Quintin went to Heaven, we had conversations that seemed almost impossible to have.
I remember him bringing up what life would look like if something ever happened to him.
At the time, I didnโt want to hear it.
Iโd laugh it off and tell him we didnโt need to talk about things like that.
But he was intentional.
More than once, he gently told me that if something ever happened to him, he didnโt want me to spend the rest of my life alone.
He wanted me to be happy.
He wanted me to keep living.
Those conversations stayed tucked away in the back of my heart.
At the time, I couldnโt imagine ever needing them.
Years later, I found myself remembering every word.
Stillโฆ
Remembering what Quintin wanted for me and believing I could actually live it were two very different things.
There were nights I lay awake wondering what my future was supposed to look like.
I wasnโt getting any younger.
I missed companionship.
I missed having someone to laugh with.
I missed having someone to share ordinary moments with.
I missed doing life with my best friend.
Loneliness is a strange thing.
It doesnโt always show up because youโre alone.
Sometimes it shows up because the one person you long to talk to isnโt there anymore.
There were moments when I caught myself wonderingโฆ
โIs this simply how the rest of my life will be?โ
Then almost immediately Iโd feel guilty for even asking.
Because another voice would whisper,
โDoes wanting companionship mean youโre not honoring Quintin?โ
That question haunted me for a long time.
As if choosing hope somehow meant choosing to forget.
It doesnโt.
It never has.
But when youโre walking through grief, your heart doesnโt always believe what your head already knows.
Then there were my children.
More than anything, I wanted to protect them.
They had already endured the unimaginable.
The last thing I wanted was to create more pain.
Their responses couldnโt have been more different.
One child struggled deeply with the very thought that I might someday open my heart again.
Another immediately wanted me to be happy.
My older two processed everything with quiet wisdom and thoughtful questions.
None of them were wrong.
They were grieving.
And every one of them was grieving differently.
As their mom, I felt caught in the middle.
Part of me thought,
โMaybe Iโll just stay alone forever.โ
Not because thatโs what I truly wanted.
But because it seemed easier than risking hurting the people I loved most.
Looking back now, I realize fear was making decisions that belonged to God.
Around that same time, something unexpected happened.
My daughter and I were talking one afternoon, and somehow the conversation drifted toward Facebook Dating.
She looked at me and said,
โMomโฆ why donโt you just set up a profile?โ
I laughed.
Actuallyโฆ I think I laughed pretty hard.
โIโve been married since I was twenty,โ I told her.
โI donโt even know how dating apps work.โ
The whole idea felt awkward.
Honestly, it felt a little ridiculous.
But eventuallyโฆ
Almost as a dareโฆ ( I may just decide to share more on that later, prayerfully considering anyway)
I set up a profile.
Not because I was searching.
Not because I had decided I was ready.
Not because I thought Iโd meet someone.
Mostly because I assumed nothing would ever come from it.
I spent very little time on it.
In fact, if Iโm honest, I found the whole experience discouraging.
It felt unnatural.
I preferred waiting on God.
I wasnโt interested in endless conversations or trying to figure out whether someone was presenting the real version of themselves.
I remember thinking,
โThis just isnโt for me.โ
Then one dayโฆ
I got a message.
A profile caught my attention.
His name was Raymond.
There was something refreshingly genuine about him.
He wasnโt trying to impress me.
He wasnโt pretending to be someone he wasnโt.
Our conversations felt easy.
We talked about faith.
Family.
Life.
The things that actually mattered.
Early on, I was completely honest with him.
I told him I was a widow.
I told him I wasnโt sure I even belonged on a dating app.
I told him I preferred to trust Godโs timing over algorithms.
He listened.
He understood.
And he was incredibly kind.
Then, in December, he asked if Iโd let him take me to dinner.
I stared at the message.
Read it again.
And then typed the only honest answer I knew how to give.
โIโm not ready.โ
Not because of him.
Because of me.
My heart still needed time.
I wasnโt trying to play hard to get.
I wasnโt asking him to wait.
I simply knew I couldnโt say yes honestly.
Most people probably wouldโve disappeared after that.
Raymond didnโt.
He never pressured me.
He never tried to convince me.
He never made me feel guilty.
Instead, he simply respected where I was.
Before our conversation ended, he gave me his phone number.
He told me that if I ever felt ready somedayโฆ
I could reach out.
And thenโฆ
He let me go.
No pressure.
No constant messages.
No trying to change my mind.
Just patience.
Looking back nowโฆ
I realize that silence wasnโt the end of our story.
It was the space where God was still quietly writing it.
So thankful I kept this part of his message…
God Was Preparing My Heart Long Before I Knew It
When Raymond and I stopped talking, life simply continued.
At least, thatโs what it looked like on the outside.
I kept being Mom.
I kept writing.
I kept learning.
I kept working.
I kept recording Coffee Chats.
I kept making dinners.
I kept showing up for my kids.
I kept going to church.
I kept praying.
And little by littleโฆ
God kept healing.
Not all at once.
Not through one dramatic moment.
Not because one day I woke up and suddenly decided I was โready.โ
Healing rarely works that way.
Looking back now, I realize God wasnโt changing my circumstances first.
He was changing me.
He was teaching me that my identity wasnโt found in being a wife.
It wasnโt found in being a widow.
It was found in being His daughter.
That may sound simple.
But when youโve spent more than thirty years doing life with someone you loved deeply, learning who you are again takes time.
A lot of time.
There were days I felt strong.
There were days I felt like I was right back where I started.
Grief isnโt a straight line.
It circles back when you least expect it.
And yetโฆ
God never stopped meeting me there.
He never rushed my healing.
He never made me feel like I should be โover it.โ
He simply walked with me.
One faithful step at a time.
Could God be asking you to dance again? Read about how He asked me to dance before I was ready below.
โก๏ธ Learning to Dance Again
A Conversation Iโll Never Forget
One afternoon, Ella and I were talking.
I donโt even remember exactly how the conversation started.
But somehow, we found ourselves talking about the future.
About healing.
About what life might look like someday.
And then she said something Iโll never forget.
She reminded me of Lotโs wife.
She said, โMomโฆ donโt become Lotโs wife.โ
At first, I just looked at her.
Because I knew exactly what she meant.
She wasnโt telling me to forget her dad.
She loved her dad.
She misses him too.
She wasnโt asking me to erase our life.
She was reminding me that God doesnโt ask us to live facing backward.
He asks us to trust Him enough to keep walking forward.
Her words settled into my heart.
Not because they answered every question.
But because they gently challenged something fear had been whispering to me for a long time.
Fear kept saying,
โIf you move forward, youโre leaving Quintin behind.โ
God kept saying,
โYou can carry love with you while still following Me into whatโs next.โ
Those are two very different voices.
Iโm thankful I listened to the right One.
Need some encouragement not to turn back? Check out this blog post for encouragement.
โก๏ธ Donโt Turn Back: God Is Doing a New Thing
The Morning Everything Felt Different
Months passed.
Then eventuallyโฆ
I reached back out to Raymond.
This time, I said yes.
Not because every fear had disappeared.
Not because I suddenly had every answer.
But because for the first timeโฆ
Peace was becoming louder than fear.
The morning of our first date, I woke up with butterflies.
Not the exciting kind.
The nervous kind.
I stood in front of my closet wondering if I should even go.
I had been married since I was twenty and dated the same man since I was 16 years old.
This wasnโt just another dinner.
It was my first first date in more than thirty years.
I remember taking a picture while I was getting ready.
When I look at that photo now, I smile.
But if Iโm honestโฆ
Behind that smile was a woman asking God one more timeโฆ
โLordโฆ am I doing the right thing?โ
Then something happened that stopped me in my tracks.
As I was getting ready, a Reel appeared in my feed.
It was from another widow.
She talked about moving forward.
About trusting God.
About not living life constantly looking over your shoulder.
About believing that another chapter doesnโt erase the one that came before it.
I donโt remember every word she said.
But I remember exactly how it made me feel.
It felt like encouragement arriving at exactly the right moment.
I donโt believe God speaks only through dramatic moments.
Sometimes He gently reminds us of truth through the right person at the right time.
That afternnoonโฆ
That Reel reminded me that healing wasnโt betrayal.
It reminded me that saying yes to dinner wasnโt saying goodbye to Quintin.
It was simply saying yes to whatever God had for today.
And for some reasonโฆ
That gave me peace.
If you need some encouragement to see if you can potentially love again, take a moment to read below…
โก๏ธ Can You Love Again After Losing Your Spouse?
Then There Was the Cardinal
Just before I left for dinner, something happened that made me pause.
A cardinal flew into my window.
If youโve followed my story for very long, you know cardinals have become meaningful to me over the years.
Not because I believe every cardinal carries a message from Heaven.
But because theyโve often reminded me to stop, breathe, and remember Godโs faithfulness.
Could it have simply been a bird?
Absolutely.
But in that moment, it caused me to pause.
It reminded me of every single time God had carried me before.
Every prayer He had answered.
Every day He had given me enough strength for.
Every moment He had remained faithful when I couldnโt see what He was doing.
So before I grabbed my keysโฆ
I stopped.
I prayed.
Not for a perfect date.
Not for instant certainty.
Not even for butterflies.
I prayed for peace.
I remember saying something likeโฆ
โLordโฆ
If this isnโt from Youโฆ
close the door.
But if it isโฆ
help me trust You enough to walk through it.โ
Looking backโฆ
I think thatโs one of the biggest prayers of my healing journey.
Because I wasnโt asking God to remove every fear before I obeyed.
I was asking Him to help me trust Him while I was still afraid.
Thatโs what faith often looks like.
Not having all the answers.
Just taking the next faithful step.
One Dinnerโฆ Five and a Half Hours
As I pulled out of my driveway that afternoon, I took one last deep breath.
I remember gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than normal.
Part of me wanted to turn around.
Not because I didnโt want to meet Raymond.
Because I knew that saying yes to this dinner represented something much bigger.
It meant I was trusting God with a part of my heart that had been broken in ways I never imagined possible.
I wasnโt driving to meet โa man.โ
I was driving toward a future I had spent two years believing might never exist.
The drive felt long.
Not because of the milesโฆ
But because of everything running through my mind.
โLordโฆ what if Iโm making a mistake?โ
โWhat if Iโm not really ready?โ
โWhat if I disappoint my kids?โ
โWhat if I disappoint myself?โ
And then I remembered the prayer Iโd been praying all morning.
Not for certainty.
Not for butterflies.
Not even for this date to become anything.
Just for peace.
So somewhere along that drive, I prayed one more time.
โLordโฆ
If this isnโt from Youโฆ
please close the door.
But if it isโฆ
give me the courage to trust You one step at a time.โ
Looking back now, I smile when I think about that prayer.
Because God didnโt answer it by giving me absolute certainty.
He answered it by giving me enough peace to keep driving.
Sometimes thatโs all He gives us.
Not the whole roadmap.
Just enough light for the next step.
And that was enough.
A Dinner That Didnโt Feel Like a First Date
Iโll never forget parking, Raymond meeting me in the parking lot and walking me to our table at the restaurant.
I expected awkward introductions.
Uncomfortable silence.
Small talk.
Maybe thirty or forty-five minutes before we both politely headed home.
Insteadโฆ
We sat down.
Started talking.
And somehowโฆ
Never really stopped.
We talked about our faith.
Not because either of us was trying to impress the other.
But because thatโs genuinely who we are.
We talked about our children.
The joys.
The challenges.
The lessons theyโve taught us.
We talked about life.
The unexpected turns neither of us planned.
The ways God had remained faithful even when life didnโt make sense.
We laughed.
More than I expected.
There wasnโt pressure.
There wasnโt pretending.
There wasnโt the feeling that either of us needed to perform or say the perfect thing.
It simply feltโฆ
Comfortable.
Looking back now, I think one of the first things that stood out to me was how well Raymond listened.
Not the kind of listening where someone is simply waiting for their turn to speak.
The kind of listening that makes you feel seen.
He asked thoughtful questions.
He remembered details.
He cared about the answers.
After walking through grief, that kind of kindness feels incredibly safe.
Time somehow disappeared.
At one point I remember glancing around the restaurant and realizing weโd been there much longer than I thought.
Then I looked at the time.
Five and a half hours.
FIVE AND A HALF HOURS!
I honestly couldnโt believe it.
We hadnโt planned to stay that long.
Neither of us seemed interested in leaving.
Not because there were fireworks.
Not because it felt like some movie scene.
Because the conversation was simply that easy.
And after carrying so much heaviness for so longโฆ
Easy felt like a true gift.
The Picture That Almost Didnโt Happen
SELFIE DINNER (BELOW)
As we walked outside that evening, Raymond smiled and said something Iโll never forget.
โCan we take a pictureโฆ
just in case someday weโd want to look back on it?โ
I laughed.
It felt sweet.
Simple.
Completely unexpected.
So we stood there togetherโฆ
And took one picture.
At the time, it was just a selfie.
Nothing more.
Neither of us knew what tomorrow would bring.
Neither of us knew if weโd ever take another picture together.
Neither of us knew weโd eventually be sharing that picture with all of you.
But God knew.
When I look at that photo today, I donโt just see two people smiling after dinner.
I see a widow who almost stayed home.
I see months of prayers.
I see countless tears.
I see conversations with my children.
I see Godโs patience.
I see His faithfulness.
I see a God who never rushed my healing.
A God who never abandoned me in my loneliness.
A God who patiently prepared my heart one small step at a time.
That picture isnโt special because itโs the first picture Raymond and I ever took together.
Itโs special because it reminds me of everything God had already done before the iphone camera ever clicked.
What I Realized Driving Home
As I drove home that night, I wasnโt thinking,
โI met the man Iโm going to marry.โ
Honestlyโฆ
I wasnโt thinking that far ahead.
I was simply overwhelmed by gratitude.
Gratitude that I had gone.
Gratitude that God had given me peace.
Gratitude that saying yes to one dinner hadnโt felt like saying goodbye to the life I had shared with Quintin.
Insteadโฆ
It felt like honoring Godโs invitation to keep living.
To keep trusting.
To keep believing that He wasnโt finished writing my story.
And for the first time in a very long timeโฆ
The future didnโt feel quite so frightening.
This Was Never Really a Story About Dating
As I look back over the last two years, I realize something now that I couldnโt see while I was living it.
I thought God was asking me to survive.
Insteadโฆ
He was teaching me how to trust Him again.
Trust Him when I couldnโt see tomorrow.
Trust Him when the house felt painfully quiet.
Trust Him when I questioned whether joy would ever feel real again.
Trust Him when my children and I were learning how to rebuild a life none of us had chosen.
And eventuallyโฆ
Trust Him enough to believe He might still have beautiful things waiting ahead.
For a long time, I thought moving forward meant leaving Quintin behind.
Now I understand something very different.
Moving forward doesnโt erase love.
It honors it.
It says,
โI was loved so well that I know love is worth believing in.โ
I will always love Quintin.
There will never be a day that changes.
He will always be part of my story.
He helped shape the woman I am today.
He gave me four incredible children.
He showed me what faithful, sacrificial love looks like.
Nothing….not time, not healing, not another relationship…will ever erase that.
And because of that foundation, I can step into tomorrow with gratitude instead of guilt.
That may be one of the greatest lessons God has taught me.
Grief and gratitude can live in the same heart.
Love and hope can exist together.
Honoring your past and embracing your future are not opposites.
Sometimes theyโre exactly how God writes redemption.
When I shared that first picture of Raymond and me, so many of you celebrated with us.
Others quietly sent messages saying,
โIโm not there yet.โ
Can I tell you something?
Thatโs okay.
Healing isnโt a race.
There isnโt a calendar that tells you when itโs time.
There isnโt a finish line where grief suddenly disappears.
Everyoneโs journey is different.
If youโre still surviving todayโฆ
Keep taking the next faithful step.
If youโre still cryingโฆ
God isnโt disappointed in your tears.
If youโre wondering whether He could ever bring joy back into your lifeโฆ
Please donโt lose heart.
He isnโt finished writing your story either.
Maybe your next chapter wonโt look like mine.
Maybe it wonโt involve another relationship at all.
But I do believe this with all my heartโฆ
God is still in the business of bringing beauty from ashes.
Sometimes that beauty looks like restored hope.
Sometimes it looks like renewed purpose.
Sometimes it looks like peace after years of anxiety.
Sometimes it simply looks like waking up one morning and realizing you smiled without feeling guilty.
Whatever your next chapter looks likeโฆ
Donโt stop believing that God is already preparing you for it.
Long before I ever met Raymondโฆ
God was preparing my heart.
And maybeโฆ
Just maybeโฆ
Heโs preparing yours too.
Before You Goโฆ
If this story encouraged you, would you do me a favor?
Iโd love for you to leave a comment below.
Tell me where youโre reading from, or simply share one word that describes the season youโre in right now.
Maybe itโsโฆ
Hope.
Waiting.
Healing.
Grief.
Faith.
You never know how your story might encourage someone else scrolling through the comments.
And if you know someone who has experienced loss or is wondering if God could ever write another beautiful chapter in their life, I hope youโll share this with them.
Sometimes the greatest gift we can give another person is simply reminding them they arenโt walking alone.
Whatโs Nextโฆ
One thing Iโve learned over the last few days is that so many of you have questions.
How did my kids respond?
What made Raymond different?
Why did I decide to try Facebook Dating?
How did I know I was finally readyโor at least ready enoughโto say yes to dinner?
Iโve been reading your comments, messages, and emails, and Iโm so grateful youโve trusted me with your own stories.
So in my next blog, Iโm going to answer the questions youโve been asking most and share some of the lessons Iโve learned while navigating dating after twenty five years of marriage (over thirty together) and the loss of my husband.
Because if thereโs one thing this journey has taught me, itโs this:
We heal best when we know weโre not walking alone.
I hope youโll come back and join me for the next chapter.
โค๏ธ
The first selfie Raymond and I took together.
After talking for five and a half hours, Raymond smiled and said, โCan we take a pictureโฆ just in case someday weโd want to look back on it?โ
At the time, neither of us knew what God was writing.
Today, I look at that picture and smile…not because it marks the beginning of our relationship, but because it reminds me of the God who patiently prepared my heart long before I ever said yes to dinner.
There is one part of this story I havenโt shared yet. One conversation that changed everything. And one question so many of you have been asking. Iโll share that in my next blog.
๐ Internal Links for those who may be walking a similar path:
Continue the journey of Encouragement:
Can You Love Again After Losing Your Spouse? Iโd Like You to Meet Raymond
Donโt Turn Back: God Is Doing a New Thing
I have prayed for you, your children. And that you would be able to love again, to feel vibrant, alive again! Be woke up!
But your story has given me hope again. I am 12 years in Sept. as a widow- usually state single. I have dated in a long term relationship. The gentleman showed me I wanted to love again. However he was not my next forever. But I continued my healing journey and learned so much about myself. Rediscovering myself. I too have grown spiritually. I just signed up on fb dating… because your picture with Raymond, and story inspired me. I am open to giving myself permission again. Please pray for Christina in Clearwater, Fl.. aka Beachbizlady๐Much love to you Lori. I wish you & Raymond all the love and luck with Gods Blessing๐๐ป๐ฉท๐
This really is a book… do you realize that? Keep blogging keep writing๐๐
I have watched you go from being โcrazy busy mommaโ to grieving a terrific loss and to finding the strength, faith and wisdom to trust God fully and intentionally at a
Time when all faith can be questioned with all of the โwhys??โ It gives me such joy to read your story and follow along. For so many days I grieved for you. I am so glad to see you opened the door that God has planned for you and your children. Thank you so so much for sharing this.
I am so proud of you and so happy too
Just continue to take one day at a time and continue trusting God.๐
God has a new adventure waiting and HE is still writing your story.
Love ๐ and Hugs ๐ค
From Mebane, North Carolina โฅ๏ธโ๏ธ
I have been following you. I am a widow of five years. I can totally relate to worrying if Iโm gonna be alone for the rest of my life, introducing someone to my kids or navigating meeting someone and then being truthful about why theyโre single and having to get to know them and trust someone again. I too went through a dating app and then it felt icky so I deleted it. I did finally just meet someone through work. Heโs a contractor for my company that I work for. Itโs fairly new, but it feels good knowing that I may not spend the rest of my life alone. I am now envious of people who have a partner to lean on to do things with or travel with. I used to love Valentineโs Day, and it got to be hard. So I can relate to so many things you mentioned. So happy you found your way here so far.
So many pearls of wisdom in here – for widows and non widows alike. I am so enjoying following this season of hope and healing with you after so much heartache. Immensely happy for you.
hi Lori. I’m from Louisiana ..thank u for sharing your story.
I have been praying for this in my life. I feel like Iโm ready. I long for that companionship again, I miss the little things.
I know God has the timing worked out for me, how do I learn to wait and not feel let down everytime I donโt meet someone?