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I sat in the funeral home, holding her as my friend mourned
the loss of her husband of fifty-one years. She was filled
with sorrow and no words I could dredge up from the depths of
my soul would help her. She simply needed to talk; to cry; to
share the memories. So I held her and let her grieve on my
shoulder. It was a painful experience and I wanted it to be
over. But sorrow cannot be rushed. One must go through the
process and her journey had just begun. Suddenly she stopped crying and looked deeply into my soul.
"We prayed for you every night," she said simply.
"We mentioned you to the Lord when we prayed together
before going to bed. We prayed for you and your husband. We
prayed for Michelle and Stephen [my children]." She drew
a deep, trembling breath. "Every night." Stunned, I stared at her with open mouth. "Every
night?" I whispered, humbled. "Really? Every
night?" She nodded her head. "Until last night. We've been
praying for you every night for over ten years - ever since
you sent the letter." She held me close. "You will
always be very special to us." The letter. I remembered it vaguely. Several years ago when
they were going through some very rough times I had written
them a letter of encouragement, reminding them of the promises
of God, telling them what a blessing they had been to me
through the years. They told me later that no one had every
written them such a letter; that no one had ever told them
they were a blessing. But I had. And that one letter was all
it took for them to grab hold of the promise of God. They had
read it so many times that it was faded and worn. Just one
letter of encouragement; just one. And in return they prayed
for my family and me every night! The treasure of friendship - its value cannot be measured
with money, or with words. The letter meant the world to them.
The prayers they prayed mean the world to me. We cried together that night, holding one another. Her
husband, my friend, has gone home to be with Jesus. We are
saddened by our loss. But we know he is no longer a crippled
man. He is whole and free. I can see him as his laughter fills
heaven and he beckons us from the other side to "Come on
over." And I've a feeling deep down in my heart that my dear
friend is even now talking to our Father -- about me. About the Author:
Baby
Recipes from Tamalyns
Baby Names Avacado
- Age 4 Months
Rescued
by Angels In 1988 an angry,
assaultive, apparently drugged car
mechanic threatened me. I was renting
a room in a less than safe area of
Riverside, California, trying to
recover from a traumatic divorce. I
was all alone. It was late and there
was no one to help me. I tried to call
the police before he bashed in the
weak front door lock and was informed
all units were busy. I knew if this
person broke in I could possibly be
beaten to death, and I started praying
for God's intervention. In about forty minutes
as he screamed and threatened to kill
me over a past due bill for car
repairs, a squad car pulled up and two
young, very nice looking police
officers hopped out. They were smiling
and calm, and they spoke soothingly to
the crazed mechanic and he promptly
passed out in front of them. They
reassured me he would go away and he
did. They brushed aside my offer to
make out a report. One of them said,
"No, don't worry about that--we
don't need it. He won't bother you
again." Shaken and terrified,
I sank to my knees and thanked God as
they pulled away. I called the
Riverside Police Station to thank them
for their help, as I am sure the door
would have broken open at any minute.
I will never forget their reply.
"There were no Officers
dispatched to your house as it wasn't
high priority." I will always believe
these wonderful, smiling Police
Officers who radiated peace, were
angels sent by God.
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