I ventured out on a mission trip this week with a group of Baptist Men and Women that David and I so loved to work alongside when he was with me.

We arrived in York, Pa. around 5 pm on Saturday; exactly one year from the date of my deceased husband's departure. Since it was late and we had no food to prepare, the pastor invited us to go out with he and his wife.
Since, I'm a third, fifth, seventh or whatever wheel at the dinner table these days, I wound up sitting beside the pastor and across from his wife. The pastor chatted with our leading pastor for awhile then turned his focus to me. "What brought you on this mission trip?" he asked. My well thought response was simply, "my husband and I used to go on these trips together. As a matter of fact he and I led a couple long term operations in the past. It's been exactly one year since he departed for glory and this trip is my way of commemorating his one year departure.

Then the way he died suddenly came spilling out of me--the hurt; the anxieties, the questions all burst out as tears streamed down my cheeks. The pastor began to share with me that he was a R.N. before becoming a pastor and that he'd experienced a heart attack. He told me that he told his wife to call 911. He was carried to the hospital, received a stent and the rest is history.

That was one of my questions. If my husband was able to say, "I love you" moments earlier, why couldn't he tell me to call 911? Why didn't I see the need to call? These questions have bothered me for a year! The pastor's response was, "I don't know. I can't answer those questions. Maybe he was ready but you were not" he said.

That very night I was awakened with those same questions only this time I heard the spirit of God speak these words to me. "That's what David wanted. He didn't want to live with disease in his body. He didn't want to be in and out of the hospital. He wanted to go just like that."

Then I recalled the many times my husband, David told me that very thing only weeks before he died. His exact words, "Honey, when it comes my time to go, I want to go just like that," and he'd snap his fingers. He also said, "I'm a Vietnam Veteran and Vietnam Vets don't usually live out of their 60's." I would brush those comments off saying, "Honey, you're going to beat those odds."

Well, guess what? He went home exactly the way he wanted to go whether I was ready or not. God was ready to take him. The Lord gifted me with an awesome sense of peace and comfort concerning those daunting questions and what I've perceived to be my husband's untimely death. The most amazing thing is that His gift arrived exactly one year later and on the exact date of his departure.

As my pastor would say to a situation like that; "Only God!" To Him be all praise and glory!