Sometimes the stories that change our lives begin with a simple “no,” months of waiting, and a God who never stopped preparing our hearts.
“Can we take a picture… just in case someday we’d want to look back on it?”
That was Raymond’s 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 we’d 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 don’t 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 is…
I almost never met Raymond.
Not because he wasn’t worth getting to know.
But because I wasn’t sure my heart would ever be able to say yes to another chapter.
If you’ve walked with me over the last two years, you know that this story didn’t begin with Facebook Dating.
It didn’t begin with a first message.
It didn’t 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 we’d survived together.
In one moment, all of those dreams suddenly looked different.
For a long time, I wasn’t 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, I’d 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 wasn’t 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 that’s difficult to explain unless you’ve lived it.
It’s not simply the absence of another person.
It’s the absence of the life you thought you would always have.
I missed conversations that no one else would understand.
I missed hearing, “How was your day?”
I missed reaching for a hand that wasn’t there anymore.
I missed having someone who knew the history behind every story and every scar.
And if I’m honest…
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 couldn’t imagine what another future could possibly look like.
I wasn’t asking God for another relationship.
I wasn’t asking Him to bring someone into my life.
Most days, I wasn’t 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.
“Lord… help me get through today.”
“Give me strength for my kids.”
“Help me trust You when I don’t understand.”
Looking back now, I can see that while I was asking God to help me survive…
He was quietly doing something much deeper.
He wasn’t just carrying me through my grief.
He was slowly healing places in my heart that I thought would stay broken forever.
I couldn’t see it then.
Healing rarely feels dramatic while it’s 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 don’t have immediate answers.
Little by little…
Without me even realizing it…
Not by asking me to forget where I’d 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 Raymond…
Long before I downloaded Facebook Dating…
Long before I ever said yes to dinner…
God had already begun writing this story.
The Internal Battle
Bible Verse Esther 4:14
If you’ve never been widowed, it’s 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 wasn’t the hardest part at all.
The hardest part was giving myself permission to even consider the possibility.
It wasn’t because I didn’t believe God could write another chapter.
It was because I loved the one He had already written so much.
I wasn’t 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 doesn’t disappear because someone dies.
It simply changes.
It becomes memories.
It becomes gratitude.
It becomes grief.
And eventually, if you’ll let God work, it becomes part of the foundation that teaches you how deeply you’re 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 didn’t want to hear it.
I’d laugh it off and tell him we didn’t 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 didn’t 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 couldn’t imagine ever needing them.
Years later, I found myself remembering every word.
Still…
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 wasn’t 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 doesn’t always show up because you’re alone.
Sometimes it shows up because the one person you long to talk to isn’t there anymore.
There were moments when I caught myself wondering…
“Is this simply how the rest of my life will be?”
Then almost immediately I’d feel guilty for even asking.
Because another voice would whisper,
“Does wanting companionship mean you’re not honoring Quintin?”
That question haunted me for a long time.
As if choosing hope somehow meant choosing to forget.
It doesn’t.
It never has.
But when you’re walking through grief, your heart doesn’t 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 couldn’t 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,
“Maybe I’ll just stay alone forever.”
Not because that’s 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,
“Mom… why don’t you just set up a profile?”
I laughed.
Actually… I think I laughed pretty hard.
“I’ve been married since I was twenty,” I told her.
“I don’t even know how dating apps work.”
The whole idea felt awkward.
Honestly, it felt a little ridiculous.
But eventually…
Almost as a dare… ( 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 I’d meet someone.
Mostly because I assumed nothing would ever come from it.
I spent very little time on it.
In fact, if I’m honest, I found the whole experience discouraging.
It felt unnatural.
I preferred waiting on God.
I wasn’t interested in endless conversations or trying to figure out whether someone was presenting the real version of themselves.
I remember thinking,
“This just isn’t for me.”
Then one day…
I got a message.
A profile caught my attention.
His name was Raymond.
There was something refreshingly genuine about him.
He wasn’t trying to impress me.
He wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t.
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 wasn’t sure I even belonged on a dating app.
I told him I preferred to trust God’s timing over algorithms.
He listened.
He understood.
And he was incredibly kind.
Then, in December, he asked if I’d 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.
“I’m not ready.”
Not because of him.
Because of me.
My heart still needed time.
I wasn’t trying to play hard to get.
I wasn’t asking him to wait.
I simply knew I couldn’t say yes honestly.
Most people probably would’ve disappeared after that.
Raymond didn’t.
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 someday…
I could reach out.
And then…
He let me go.
No pressure.
No constant messages.
No trying to change my mind.
Just patience.
Looking back now…
I realize that silence wasn’t 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, that’s 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 little…
God kept healing.
Not all at once.
Not through one dramatic moment.
Not because one day I woke up and suddenly decided I was “ready.”
Healing rarely works that way.
Looking back now, I realize God wasn’t changing my circumstances first.
He was changing me.
He was teaching me that my identity wasn’t found in being a wife.
It wasn’t found in being a widow.
It was found in being His daughter.
That may sound simple.
But when you’ve 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 isn’t a straight line.
It circles back when you least expect it.
And yet…
God never stopped meeting me there.
He never rushed my healing.
He never made me feel like I should be “over it.”
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.
A Conversation I’ll Never Forget
One afternoon, Ella and I were talking.
I don’t 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 I’ll never forget.
She reminded me of Lot’s wife.
She said, “Mom… don’t become Lot’s wife.”
At first, I just looked at her.
Because I knew exactly what she meant.
She wasn’t telling me to forget her dad.
She loved her dad.
She misses him too.
She wasn’t asking me to erase our life.
She was reminding me that God doesn’t 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,
“If you move forward, you’re leaving Quintin behind.”
God kept saying,
“You can carry love with you while still following Me into what’s next.”
Those are two very different voices.
I’m thankful I listened to the right One.
Need some encouragement not to turn back? Check out this blog post for encouragement.
➡️ Don’t Turn Back: God Is Doing a New Thing
The Morning Everything Felt Different
Months passed.
Then eventually…
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 time…
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 wasn’t 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 I’m honest…
Behind that smile was a woman asking God one more time…
“Lord… am I doing the right thing?”
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 doesn’t erase the one that came before it.
I don’t 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 don’t believe God speaks only through dramatic moments.
Sometimes He gently reminds us of truth through the right person at the right time.
That afternnoon…
That Reel reminded me that healing wasn’t betrayal.
It reminded me that saying yes to dinner wasn’t saying goodbye to Quintin.
It was simply saying yes to whatever God had for today.
And for some reason…
That gave me peace.
If you need some encouragement to see if you can potentially love again, take a moment to read below…
➡️ 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 you’ve 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 they’ve often reminded me to stop, breathe, and remember God’s 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 couldn’t see what He was doing.
So before I grabbed my keys…
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 like…
“Lord…
If this isn’t from You…
close the door.
But if it is…
help me trust You enough to walk through it.”
Looking back…
I think that’s one of the biggest prayers of my healing journey.
Because I wasn’t asking God to remove every fear before I obeyed.
I was asking Him to help me trust Him while I was still afraid.
That’s what faith often looks like.
Not having all the answers.
Just taking the next faithful step.
One Dinner… 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 didn’t 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 wasn’t driving to meet “a man.”
I was driving toward a future I had spent two years believing might never exist.
The drive felt long.
Not because of the miles…
But because of everything running through my mind.
“Lord… what if I’m making a mistake?”
“What if I’m not really ready?”
“What if I disappoint my kids?”
“What if I disappoint myself?”
And then I remembered the prayer I’d 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.
“Lord…
If this isn’t from You…
please close the door.
But if it is…
give me the courage to trust You one step at a time.”
Looking back now, I smile when I think about that prayer.
Because God didn’t answer it by giving me absolute certainty.
He answered it by giving me enough peace to keep driving.
Sometimes that’s all He gives us.
Not the whole roadmap.
Just enough light for the next step.
And that was enough.
A Dinner That Didn’t Feel Like a First Date
I’ll 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.
Instead…
We sat down.
Started talking.
And somehow…
Never really stopped.
We talked about our faith.
Not because either of us was trying to impress the other.
But because that’s genuinely who we are.
We talked about our children.
The joys.
The challenges.
The lessons they’ve taught us.
We talked about life.
The unexpected turns neither of us planned.
The ways God had remained faithful even when life didn’t make sense.
We laughed.
More than I expected.
There wasn’t pressure.
There wasn’t pretending.
There wasn’t the feeling that either of us needed to perform or say the perfect thing.
It simply felt…
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 we’d 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 couldn’t believe it.
We hadn’t 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 long…
Easy felt like a true gift.
The Picture That Almost Didn’t Happen
SELFIE DINNER (BELOW)
As we walked outside that evening, Raymond smiled and said something I’ll never forget.
“Can we take a picture…
just in case someday we’d want to look back on it?”
I laughed.
It felt sweet.
Simple.
Completely unexpected.
So we stood there together…
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 we’d ever take another picture together.
Neither of us knew we’d eventually be sharing that picture with all of you.
But God knew.
When I look at that photo today, I don’t 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 God’s 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 isn’t special because it’s the first picture Raymond and I ever took together.
It’s 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 wasn’t thinking,
“I met the man I’m going to marry.”
Honestly…
I wasn’t 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 hadn’t felt like saying goodbye to the life I had shared with Quintin.
Instead…
It felt like honoring God’s invitation to keep living.
To keep trusting.
To keep believing that He wasn’t finished writing my story.
And for the first time in a very long time…
The future didn’t 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 couldn’t see while I was living it.
I thought God was asking me to survive.
Instead…
He was teaching me how to trust Him again.
Trust Him when I couldn’t 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 eventually…
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 doesn’t erase love.
It honors it.
It says,
“I was loved so well that I know love is worth believing in.”
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 they’re 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,
“I’m not there yet.”
Can I tell you something?
That’s okay.
Healing isn’t a race.
There isn’t a calendar that tells you when it’s time.
There isn’t a finish line where grief suddenly disappears.
Everyone’s journey is different.
If you’re still surviving today…
Keep taking the next faithful step.
If you’re still crying…
God isn’t disappointed in your tears.
If you’re wondering whether He could ever bring joy back into your life…
Please don’t lose heart.
He isn’t finished writing your story either.
Maybe your next chapter won’t look like mine.
Maybe it won’t involve another relationship at all.
But I do believe this with all my heart…
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 like…
Don’t stop believing that God is already preparing you for it.
Long before I ever met Raymond…
God was preparing my heart.
And maybe…
Just maybe…
He’s preparing yours too.
Before You Go…
If this story encouraged you, would you do me a favor?
I’d love for you to leave a comment below.
Tell me where you’re reading from, or simply share one word that describes the season you’re in right now.
Maybe it’s…
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 you’ll share this with them.
Sometimes the greatest gift we can give another person is simply reminding them they aren’t walking alone.
What’s Next…
One thing I’ve 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 ready—or at least ready enough—to say yes to dinner?
I’ve been reading your comments, messages, and emails, and I’m so grateful you’ve trusted me with your own stories.
So in my next blog, I’m going to answer the questions you’ve been asking most and share some of the lessons I’ve learned while navigating dating after twenty five years of marriage (over thirty together) and the loss of my husband.
Because if there’s one thing this journey has taught me, it’s this:
We heal best when we know we’re not walking alone.
I hope you’ll come back and join me for the next chapter.
❤️
The first selfie Raymond and I took together.
After talking for five and a half hours, Raymond smiled and said, “Can we take a picture… just in case someday we’d want to look back on it?”
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 haven’t shared yet. One conversation that changed everything. And one question so many of you have been asking. I’ll share that in my next blog.
🔗 Internal Links for those who may be walking a similar path:
Continue the journey of Encouragement:
Can You Love Again After Losing Your Spouse? I’d Like You to Meet Raymond
Don’t Turn Back: God Is Doing a New Thing
God is still healing me. I’m from South Africa. was married and divorced twice from the father of my three beautiful adult children
Gawa, thank you for sharing your heart all the way from South Africa. ❤️ It’s amazing how God connects people across the world through our stories.
I’m so sorry for all you’ve walked through. Healing isn’t always quick, but the fact that you can say, “God is still healing me,” tells me He hasn’t left your side. I’ll be praying that He continues to restore the places that have been broken and fills your heart with His peace and hope. Thank you for being here. ❤️
What a beautiful story! Very well written, too. I’m so happy that you’ve met someone special. I enjoy following you and reading your posts. You have a gift for writing!
Melissa, thank you so much! ❤️ Your encouragement means the world to me. I truly believe every story God allows us to live has the potential to bring hope to someone else. Thank you for celebrating this chapter with me and for faithfully reading along all these years. I’m so grateful you’re part of this community. God bless you! ❤️
Lori, this is such a beautiful story! I think losing our husbands also teaches us how many things we took for granted! The hugs and kisses, the companionship is what I miss the most! The honey can u go to the store for me? The way he loved our kids! I am going to have renewed hope and remember how blessed I truly am! My circumstances aren’t the best right now but I will try to get out of my pain, my why me ? I could never love someone as much as my husband but we can love differently and that’s ok! Thank you for your inspiring words!
Stacey, thank you for sharing your heart with me. ❤️ You captured something so many widows understand—the little everyday moments are often what we miss the most. The simple “Honey, can you run to the store?” or the hugs and companionship that once felt ordinary become the things we’d give anything to experience again.
I love that you said you’ve found renewed hope. That doesn’t diminish the love you shared with your husband—it honors it. We don’t replace a great love; we carry it with us while allowing God to continue writing our story. I’ll be praying that He meets you in your current circumstances and continues replacing the “why me?” with His peace. Thank you for encouraging me today.
Hi Lori, my husband of 25 yrs was diagnosed with ALS in February of 25 and passed away on Dec. 1st of 25. Our daughter was a senior in high school as we watched him stoically decline so rapidly over those 8 and a half months. I am in survival mode. Focusing on my daughter as we manage her life transition to college. It feels like I am in survival mode and am putting her first knowing that I will focus on myself once she is settled at college. Your blogs and posts give me hope that my own healing journey is coming.
Wondering if you can share which bible you have in this post with the beautiful illustrations? It caught my eye immediately and would like to buy one.
Thank you for always sharing the real part of grief. The ugly, the bad and the good. Your experiences resonate with me so much.
Stacy, my heart just aches reading your story. ❤️ Watching someone you love battle ALS is a grief all its own, and then stepping into widowhood while helping your daughter launch into her next season is an incredible weight to carry. Survival mode is exactly what it feels like, and I remember wondering if I’d ever feel like myself again.
I want to encourage you that healing doesn’t happen overnight, but it does come. One day you’ll realize you’ve smiled a little longer or breathed a little deeper, and you’ll see God has been healing your heart all along.
The Bible in the photos is the Inspire Bible. I absolutely love it and highly recommend it. ❤️
I’ll be praying for you and your daughter as you both navigate this next chapter. Thank you for trusting me with your story.
So very happy for you. It’s been six years since I lost the love of my life. At times I pray for someone else, but just can’t find the courage to do it. Your story has given me hope. I wish the best for you and Raymond
Joanne, thank you so much for your kind words. ❤️ Six years is a long journey, and I completely understand what you mean about praying for someone but not yet feeling the courage to take that step. There is no timeline for grief, and there is no pressure to be anywhere except where God has you today.
I’m so thankful my story has given you hope. Whether God writes another love story for you or simply continues drawing you closer to Himself, I truly believe His plans are good. I’ll be praying He gives you peace, courage, and wisdom for whatever He has ahead. Thank you for celebrating this chapter with me. ❤️
I’m from Liberty, MO and I’ve followed you for many many years. I have prayed to see you happy again since the day Quintin passed. I feel like I know your children as I’ve watched them grow up on Facebook (especially Lilly!). When I saw your post about Raymond I ran up the stairs yelling to my daughter that you have a boyfriend lol. We rejoiced together as I’ve talked to her about your journey for the last almost 2 and half years. I couldn’t be happier for you. Keep living, keep thriving and keep trusting in God. You, your family and your beautiful spirit deserves all the blessing and love in the world.
Im so happy for you
Anna, thank you so much! ❤️ Your kindness and encouragement mean so much to me. I’m grateful you’re here celebrating this new chapter with me. God bless you!
Megan, this made me smile so big. ❤️ The thought of you running upstairs to tell your daughter about Raymond is something I’ll never forget! Thank you for praying for me all these years and for loving my family from afar. It amazes me how God can connect people who have never met in person. Your prayers carried me through some of my darkest days, even though you didn’t know it. Thank you for celebrating this chapter with me. I’m so grateful you’re part of this community. God bless you! ❤️
I was in the same boat as you but my husband passed away from cancer about six years earlier than your husband. Then I was alone during the pandemic which was also hard because we didn’t have kids since we met later in life. I just felt so lonely during the isolation time. So I kept myself busy with work and making art and when I felt ready I made a profile on the Facebook dating site. I met someone and we’ve been together for a few years and are now celebrating our first anniversary.
I have been following you for years and totally understand what you’re going through and love the strength you show the world through your platform. I’m sure you are helping so manny people out there with your stories and your compassion.
Kimberly, thank you for sharing your story with me. ❤️ Widowhood can feel incredibly lonely, and I can only imagine how much harder that isolation became during the pandemic. I love that you gave yourself permission to wait until you truly felt ready, and then trusted God enough to take that first step. Congratulations on your first anniversary! What a beautiful reminder that God is still writing stories of hope.
Thank you for encouraging me and for reminding others that healing doesn’t erase our past—it simply allows us to embrace what God has ahead. I’m so grateful you’ve been walking alongside me all these years. ❤️
You are an awesome person look. How far you come u go girl god had you always love your new adventure with Ramand I am so inspired by you just that you didn’t hide you jumped in with both feet first be proud of you I am proud of you you are beautiful women with a wonderful soul I truly hope you are happy it’s great to see you smile again you be you and look at your kids and how well rounded they are that’s you doing a bc great job raising them and Q too
Judy, thank you so much for your sweet encouragement. ❤️ It hasn’t always been easy, and there were many days I couldn’t imagine smiling again. Every step forward has been by God’s grace. Thank you for celebrating this new chapter with me and for loving my family through all these years. Your kindness means more than you know. God bless you! ❤️
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 Beachbizlady💋Much love to you Lori. I wish you & Raymond all the love and luck with Gods Blessing🙏🏻🩷💙
This really is a book… do you realize that? Keep blogging keep writing🔏📝
Christina, your comment brought tears to my eyes. ❤️ Thank you for praying for me and my children all these years. Knowing there were people asking God to restore hope to our family means more than I can put into words.
I smiled when I read that you gave yourself permission again. I think that’s what so many widows struggle with—not whether we’re allowed to love again, but whether we’re allowed to hope again. I’m so thankful God has been healing your heart, even through a relationship that wasn’t your forever. None of it was wasted.
I will absolutely be praying for you, Christina. My prayer is that if God has someone for you, He will make His timing and His peace unmistakably clear. And if He uses my story to encourage you along the way, then every hard chapter has been worth sharing.
And thank you for saying this could be a book. ❤️ That encouragement means more than you know. God bless you, friend.
Lori,
I loved reading about Raymond! This has happened to me when I met Andy last March. A dating app of course. My Steve died in January of 2022. Two months of unexpected circumstances and my whole 31.5 years with him and the life I knew shattered and so did my future. I have 2 adult sons. God has so amazing and present in my life during the worst of times that I knew my book is not over. More chapters were left to be written. So much to fill in here but after 7 one off meets on the dating app I had resolved to the fact that being alone was probably my future. I was 62 and was blessed to have had a beautiful life with a man that honored God, loved his family and was a huge part I of who I am today. I should be grateful. Andy messaged me in late February when I was away on a trip and week later he drove 125 miles to my city to have an early dinner. After 2.5 hours he asked if I thought we were a match and I simply answered… no. I said I wasn’t sure if I would even be able to feel again and I was so sorry. He reached out and held my hands across the table as I fought back tears. I just basically dumped this man and he’s holding my hands! He walked me to my car, we hugged and I drive to a friend’s house because I was beside myself. He drive home another 125 miles. The next day I texted him to thank him for dinner and wondered if we could connect once in a while as friends. He was surprised I messaged and was totally up for the FRIENDS idea. A week went by. I took myself off a date to a dinner music venue. Andy is a musician and during the break at the theatre I thought about him so I texted him. Told him where I was and he asked me to text him when I got out of the event. We talked for 3 hours that night! The following weekend I drove 125 miles to see him. We have been together ever since and, yes, we became more than just friends after I got to know him. He is a wonderful God loving man and I believe the timing was definitely not mine! If I hadn’t texted him that night on my self date I would have never got to know this man! I would have missed it all!!! So grateful that even though I thought being alone might be my journey, God was preparing my heart to open again which I thought would never happen.
Anyhow, I appreciate you opening up to all of us about your Raymond! It’s inspiring to see God’s hands working in the lives of widows! 🥰
Carolyn, thank you for taking the time to share your story with me. ❤️ Reading your journey brought tears to my eyes. I could picture that first dinner, your honesty about not knowing if you could ever feel again, and Andy simply meeting you with kindness and patience. What a beautiful example of God’s timing.
I especially loved what you said: “My book is not over. More chapters were left to be written.” I think that’s exactly what so many widows need to hear. Opening our hearts again doesn’t erase the beautiful life we had—it honors the God who continues writing our story.
Thank you for reminding me that sometimes the greatest gifts come when we stop trying to force the outcome and simply remain open to what God is doing. Your story is such an encouragement to me, and I know it will encourage so many others who read these comments.
Please give Andy my congratulations too! ❤️ I’m so thankful God brought the two of you together, and I’m grateful you took the time to encourage me in this new chapter. God bless you both.
I have watched you go from being “crazy busy momma” 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 “whys??” 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.
Pamela, your words truly touched my heart. ❤️ Thank you for staying with me through every chapter—from the “Crazy Busy Mama” days, through the darkest season of my life, and now into this new one.
You’re right… there were many moments when I wrestled with the “whys,” and there were days I wasn’t sure what God was doing. Looking back, I can see He wasn’t absent—He was gently carrying me, even when I couldn’t feel it.
Thank you for grieving with me, praying for my family, and now celebrating with us. Your faithfulness as a reader and friend has meant more than you’ll ever know. My prayer is that every chapter continues to point people to Jesus and His unfailing goodness. God bless you. ❤️
I am so proud of you and so happy too
Just continue to take one day at a time and continue trusting God.🙏
God has a new adventure waiting and HE is still writing your story.
Love 💕 and Hugs 🤗
From Mebane, North Carolina ♥️✝️
Mary Beth, thank you so much for your sweet encouragement. ❤️ Your reminder to keep taking one day at a time is exactly how I’ve made it through every season. I don’t know everything God has ahead, but I do know He’s been faithful every step of the way, and I trust Him with the pages still to come.
Thank you for celebrating this new chapter with me and for cheering me on all the way from North Carolina! Sending you a big hug, and may God bless you abundantly. ❤️🙏
I have been following you. I am a widow of five years. I can totally relate to worrying if I’m gonna be alone for the rest of my life, introducing someone to my kids or navigating meeting someone and then being truthful about why they’re 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. He’s a contractor for my company that I work for. It’s 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 Valentine’s 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 I’m 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 don’t meet someone?