Gentle Reminders

Today as I was surfing some blogs I came across a comment from a woman who lost her husband suddenly in 2007. She commented that she didn't believe in a God who answers prayers. It broke my heart to read her comments. The hopeless tone of her comment reminded me of myself 15 years ago.



Two weeks ago I posted on my other blog about giving a last minute teaching at a scripture service at church, and how I had trouble coming up with something to say. As I tried to recall everything I learned at the "She Speaks Conference" the only thing I could remember was to "be real" The Gospel I was to teach on was Luke 12:1-4; the one where Jesus teaches his disciples to pray. After praying about it I finally decided to tell my story of praying the Lord's prayer and what happened as a result.



In leiu of the comment left on the blog today I decided to post part of my talk.




15 years ago I was at work when I recieved a call from
my friend and co-worker Yvonne. She was calling to tell me she
was on her way to the office to pick me up. She told me that my
husband had been in an accident.


When I first heard the words I wasn’t
too concerned. Ed had been several fender benders
through the years. But when she told me they were airlifting him
to the hospital, my knees went weak.

As I waited for her to get to the office I began calling my
family. I called my son at home, no answer, I called his work; no he
wasn’t there either, but they promised to send him right to the hospital if he came in. There was no one at home when I tried my father-in-law, and the same for my
daughter. When I phoned her boyfriends house I was
told they were out Christmas shopping. This all occured before anyone
carried cell phones, so the chance of finding someone who was out and
about was very slim. Next on my list was my sister and when
there was no answer I tried my dad. Again, no answer. I
felt panicky.

When I heard the bell in the front of the office I knew it was Yvonne and I
ran to the door. "What happened?" I asked as I opened the
car door. Gently she told me that my husband had gone through a
red light and his car had been struck by a semi-truck.

As I got into her car and we started driving, my panicked voice
shouted at her "
We have to pray -Yvonne pray with
me
." Simultaneously we both began to say the
Lords Prayer. Even though we could say the prayer in our sleep, after
three or four times of repeating the prayer the memorized words were
becoming difficult to get out and I remember grabbing my knees
and rocking my torso and saying Please don’t let him die God. Don’t you
dare let him die.

Well I think you all know that my prayer didn’t get answered in the way I
wanted that day, and the truth is, my husband was dead before I ever even
started to pray, however God did give me what I needed that day.

After arriving at the hospital they ushered me into a room and I
waited. As I paced back and forth I spotted a phone, but the only number I
could remember was my sisters. I was certain that if I could get her she
could continue trying to find my kids. But still there was no answer. I
went back to pacing.

A few minutes later they came and told me how sorry they were but my
husband had died. As they were escorting me down the hall to the room
where his body was, I heard some commotion and I looked up and saw my
father-in-law and brother in law. I stopped to tell them what had happened
and as we spoke, I heard footsteps and my son and his girlfriend came rushing
in. We made our way down the corridor and just as we got to the door of my husbands room, I heard my daughter calling my name and looked up to see the two of them hurrying toward us.

It took me a few years before I appreciated and understood the
immenseness of that moment. It was nothing short of a miracle that they
had all arrived when they did. All in different cars all notified by
different people and yet at the exact time, the time that I needed them the very
most, God orchestrated their arrival. Our God is so faithful!



We don't know the reason God allows bad things to happen. I know I blamed God for not stopping my husbands car and for not allowing me to be able to say goodbye to him. But looking back I can't begin to tell you all the ways God comfored me in my grief.



The last movie Ed and I watched on television was a Hallmark movie called "Dancing with the White Dog. The story was about a white dog that shows up right after a man's wife died. He believed it was his wife coming back to watch over him.

It was a beautiful touching movie and we both cried.

Less than a week later, as the funeral procession pulled into the cemetery to bury my husband, a white labrador retreiver was standing near my husbands gravesite. I let out a gasp and there wasn't a dry eye when I told the story.

All winter long my yard was full of pheasants and deer and rabbits. They drew closer than ever before as if sensing my grief. My husband loved the nature. Never before or since have I had a pheasant come onto my deck and perch on one of the wood posts. I swear it looked right at me and our eyes locked. I knew it was there for my sake, and I knew I was being watched over.



I love to hear the stories people share about their experiences. So often we are afraid to share them for fear others will think we're a little strange. The look of surprise and relief on the faces of the women I talk to is heartwarming, and they are always eager to share any out of the ordinary experiennces that they have had.
It is such a comfort not just to recieve Gods comforting reminders but to be able to share them with others.
Anyone care to share your story with the rest of us?




2 comments:

Dee said...

Thank you for sharing such a heart touching moment in your life. I am a stranger but here is a (((hug))). Dee

Mary said...

When I got to the end of your post, I had tears of recognition streaming down my face. My husband Michael died suddenly in 2007, and I became acutely aware of the messages that came through the natural wonders.

I love "Dancing With the White Dog," too! Great post!