My last words before I close my eyes each night are "Lord, help me get out of bed in the morning." And He is faithful. Trust me, there are more days than not that I would like to pull the covers up high and remain in the place that demands nothing of me. 
Yesterday was a really tough day. Earlier in the week, (after watching an episode of Hoarders,) I gathered another load of Rob's clothes and shoes to donate to our area assistance ministry. 

Why are shoes so hard to bid farewell?

Maybe because they symbolize the many steps of Rob's life... perhaps, they remind me of a giant of a man and how hard it is for anyone to fill those shoes. I was 75% successful; all but his basketball shoes made it to the car. After all, hoops and Rob are hard to let go.  

I'd driven around with leather and business attire all week, but Friday was my emotional deadline.

I stared into the trunk, silently shouting at myself, "You can do this, you've got to do this," when a man interrupted my mental lecture. "What size are those?" pointing to the gently-used turf shoes.

As I placed them in his worn hands, I told him how my Rob's trunk always held an extra pair of athletic shoes and how he made it a good habit of giving them away to those in need. Smiling big, I explained that my husband's watchful eye from above might disapprove if I didn't offer them. Before I could react, this man of the streets kissed my temple and offered his sympathy.  A holy kiss mingled with dirt and sweat...living out Jesus isn't always tidy.  

And he disappeared...

Two young volunteers watched from a nearby door; they, too, were smiling. I wonder if God touched them, as well.

Not only did I carry a man's pungent scent throughout the rest of the day, but the firm assurance that Jesus has a plan for each difficult day without Rob and my family. Each morning He will place my feet on worn carpet and direct my steps for his good.