My pastor asked a question recently that made me think, “Who is someone in your life that has a faith worth following?” I immediately thought of Elisabeth Elliot.

When I was in college in the 70s, I attended an InterVarsity Conference where I first heard her speak. She spoke with conviction as she described her faith in God in the first days and months of becoming a widow at age 30. Her husband was killed along with four other missionaries in Ecuador while serving in the jungle of the Amazon. Elisabeth continued to serve the Quichua tribe for two years following the tragic death of her husband. She went on to remarry and became a widow again after several years. She married a third time and died in 2015 at the age of 88.

She was a professor and author of more than 25 books. I’d like to share some of her quotes from two of her books; “A Path Through Suffering” (1990, Servant Publications) and “Suffering is Never for Nothing” (2019, B & H Publishing)

“Every event in our lives provides opportunity to learn the deepest lesson anyone can learn on earth,…When our souls lie barren in a winter which seems hopeless and endless, God has not abandoned us. His work goes on. He asks our acceptance of the painful process and our trust that He will indeed give resurrection life.” (A Path Through Suffering)

“God’s presence did not change the fact of my widowhood. Jim’s absence thrust me, forced me, hurried me to God, my hope and my only refuge. And so I can say to you that suffering is an irreplaceable medium through which I learned an indispensable truth. I AM. I am the Lord. In other words, that God is God. (Suffering is Never for Nothing)

“I kept going back again and again to the promises that God had given me….Day after day God was giving me promises that just enabled me to through. Jesus Christ, the same yesterday and today and forever. I didn’t need to worry about the next fifty years, which is a temptation for anyone who’s lost someone they love. You think, “Well, I guess I could make it through supper tonight but not real sure about tomorrow or next week, let alone the next fifty years.”

My hope in sharing Elisabeth’s quotes here, that you find hope, comfort, and encouragement to continue in the journey that you are on.

"Grateful Yet Grieving"

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download

Since my husband died, I’ve been able to return to many places that we went together like restaurants, places we traveled, and homes of friends. However, one place I haven't been able to go back to is the last place we were together before his death: Costa Rica.

My husband introduced me to this beautiful country in 1999 for the first time. The connection with Costa Rica is part of who he is. His mother was born and raised there until she married his father in 1942. Costa Rica was literally in his blood. The attachment to Costa Rica became more significant in the early 2000s when he became involved in going there on missions trips. His love increased for the beautiful people and scenic landscape, as did mine. After a dozen mission trips, up until the time of his death, Costa Rica was his happy place.

I’ve often asked myself the question, why don’t I return? I’ve come up with a few responses.

The recurring thought I have that keeps me from returning is it was the most significant thing we did together. Our “coupleness” was defined by going to Costa Rica. When he was in charge of the missions trips, I was his assistant, working along aside him and helping him. My Spanish is limited. However, my husband spoke fluent Spanish and would get us to where we needed to go and communicate with the people we were serving. I realize now I was more dependent on him in Costa Rica than at home, in a good way.

Another thought that I’ve considered is that I can’t not see Costa Rica separate from my husband. Going back for a vacation, even though it is one of the world’s most desired destinations, isn’t on my bucket list. My husband’s footprint is in Costa Rica.

Lastly, I sense that I want to have the memories of Costa Rica stay the same, with my husband’s legacy all over them. I don’t want the connection to be separate. There’s a sweetness and sacredness to maintaining the bond.

For now, I’m giving myself permission to remember my husband and the place he loved as is.

There’s a sense of honoring him and keeping his legacy in a beloved and beautiful place.