I saw the advertisement on a
Facebook page dedicated to our neighborhood—“Antique French bed includes
headboard, footboard, and side rails. Good condition.” Hmm.... I thought about
it for a week before making inquiries. Another week passed before I heard a
response from the owner. Today was the day I finally made contact with the
woman who was selling it and arranged a time after church to see the bed. Today
was the day I officially decided that it is time to exchange my king sized bed
for something smaller.
When I drove up to the home to
examine the bed, an older couple was working diligently in the front yard,
taking advantage of the unseasonably warm January day. I immediately liked
them. They both had smile lined faces and the lines around their eyes told the
story of all the joy they had shared over the years. “Hi, I’m Kim. I texted you
about the bed.”
“Hello, I’m Renate,” the woman
spoke with a thick South African accent and extended her hand to take mine. “It
is a pleasure to meet you.” We made our way to the garage where the head board
leaned against a wall. Renate showed me a stamp near the bottom. “See, this is
the stamp showing it was made in Paris.”
“Where did you find this?” I was
curious to know more.
“I bought it 42 years ago in
South Africa when we were first married. It was in an antique store. We just
recently bought a bigger bed.” Her husband joined us in the garage. Their
mannerisms demonstrated a love and intimacy that was over forty years strong.
“I’ll take it.”
Her husband spoke up, “When will
your husband see it? When you get home?”
“No,” I hesitated a moment, “my
husband is dead. That’s why I’m buying this. I have a king bed and just decided
it’s time to downsize. I don’t even use half my bed.”
There was an awkward silence. “I’m
sorry,” he responded, eyes downcast.
They helped Haden and I load the
bed into the back of our Expedition. They gave us pillows to provide padding
between the pieces, and then Renate followed us home so that we would not need
to return them. We spoke a little and with every word I liked her even
more. Before she left I told her, “Now I have a piece of your story.”
She smiled and her eyes twinkled.
“Yes, you do.”
Marriage is such a gift. It is
the covenant relationship that God uses to demonstrate His connection with the
church. I believe wholeheartedly in marriage and value it even more now that
Woody is gone. It is not something to be taken for granted but to be cherished
and preserved. Renate and her husband reminded me of what Woody and I had hoped
to have in another 22 years. However, our story was rewritten and now I have
learned to lean on God as I adjust to a life that does not include a husband to
have and to hold into old age. It means a life of transitions, such as
downsizing from a king to a queen. But with every adjustment, with every change
I grow stronger. God is slowly removing the clouds to reveal His brilliant
sunlight.
Hopefully soon I can begin the
work of restoring the queen bed, and as I do I know I’ll remember Renate’s
beautiful smile and the marriage that began in South Africa 42 years ago. I
will also remember how God has faithfully carried me through the darkness and
continues to restore my heart. King to queen—another step forward.
