One week ago this evening, Jeff and I were returning home from Mom and Dad's. We had picked up some burgers and stayed to watch Wheel of Fortune with them. Mostly we were watching with Mom. Daddy was too busy shooting squirrels away from his bird feeders. All was normal. We'd see them tomorrow. We'd gather as a family for lunch. Instead, we gathered at the hospital.
One week later, I drove Mom to Daddy's graveside. She had to make sure everything was as it should be. She was a rock, of course. Talking of practical matters and of the abundance of amazing grace the Lord had bestowed upon us through this trial. We talked of how overwhelmingly God's hand was in every detail of every event, every segment of the experience, working out things we would never have given a thought. Even as I acknowledged His presence and work among us, I shook my head in disbelief. This cannot be real. No. No. Each time this happens (and it happens often) He comes to my side, comforts my heart and gives me strength to continue to live on to serve him as Daddy always did.
"Let not your heart be troubled...."
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