My life is divided into the “Before” and “After” of the events of August 2010. The work accident that landed my husband on life support happened on August 17 and we said goodbye to him on August 21. Each year as the time approaches, my thoughts shift to that horrible time. Sometimes the waves of grief wash over me again, although each year the amount of pain the memories bring lessens.

In 2013, on the third year anniversary of my husband’s passing, all I wanted to do was drink alcohol. To escape the pain of grief into a bottle.

Which is strange, because I have never turned to alcohol as a means of escape. In fact, I can count on one hand the times I’ve experimented with alcohol. A sip of beer I spit into the sink, and two sips of a mixed drink at a party. A wise person stopped me from having more sips as I was underage and driving.

After that, my experimenting with alcohol ended, for good. I went away to a Christian college, traveled to Mexico to study then later to teach, got a job working in downtown Grand Rapids and lived in the city which brought adventures of its own.

And I met a man who’d given up alcohol by choice. And married him. And had twenty wonderful years together.

Now when I think about drinking alcohol, I don’t act on the impulse. Not because of my reputation, although it matters to me what people think. And not because of my meds, although I am not supposed to mix them with alcohol.

My decision to avoid alcohol and any other mind altering substances is the Rock on which I stand. My roots grow deep in my faith, from a child in Sunday school, to a ten-year-old who went to the altar at church camp, to a young teen baptized in OJ’s pond, and through many ups and downs, trial and triumphs where now, at 61, I stand amazed at the faitfulness of God in my life.

Someone asked me what I want most.

The answer I gave is that I want my family to share my faith. And that is true.

I also want my books to sell more than just to a handful of people. I’d like to grow my writing business and my readership, not for money or recognition, but because my books tell a story of God’s faithfulness and redemption, of forgiveness and love that lasts for generations.

I pondered the question for a few days and other than what I had said at the time, I realized I have everything I want. I have everything I need.

There are things I would like to have, of course, and I am always on the lookout at thrift stores for treasures that will make my home more colorful and will give me more space to either display or organize what I have.

But, really, I have everything I need. And the things I want money can’t buy.

And it’s a good feeling, at 61 years old, to be able to say that.

I have an advantage many single women my age don’t have in that two of my adult children share my house and help with expenses. They live their own lives but we share the space and we all claim the cats that reside in our home. I enjoy the bits of time that I see them and talk to them but we don’t crowd each other. Though I know they will move out one day and I will be on my own, I’m glad I have the time with them.

I have a good relationship with all my adult children, with my siblings, my extended family and my inlaws. I have emotional support, help in getting to and from appointments as I don’t drive much, and moments just for fun and relaxation.

I have Christian friends, brothers and sisters in the faith, and not just in one church but from many churches. I can call upon them to pray for me or my loved ones in times of needs and they respond, and God answers prayers.

I have a community that is safe and caring. Neighbors who are also friends.

I have classmates I didn’t speak with in high school who have become friends.

I have several cats that I didn’t ask for but provide companionship and entertainment.

I have author friends and we support each other in ways that we can.

I have a growing online presence and faithful readers who buy all my books.

(If I haven’t mentioned someone that doesn’t fall into any of these areas, I am sorry for the omission. I tried to include everyone in my network.)

I don’t reflect on what I don’t have. On relationships that I’ve lost through neglect or hardship.

I’ve been praying this prayer from the Bible the past couple of weeks during my devotions from Ephesians 3. The following King James version has a poetic sound to it:

“For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, That he would grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man; That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, May be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God.“

I feel like my faith is rooted and grounded in love, not only the love of Christ, but the love of family and friends, those who have passed away as well as the living. My faith has stood strong in the face of storms and enemy fire and self-doubt.

My faith has deep roots and God’s grace has made it possible for me to stand firm.