Everything is in His Hands

Welcome back!  Here is the promised photo of the Christmas tree of hope.  For those of you who did not read the previous post, yet, you may want to after this.  Just in case - have tissue handy... Today I want to tell you about a time when God used some simple words a kind widow offered me in advance of a deep valley I went through.  You just never know how the Lord will use you and you might not find out on this side of heaven.

It was a testy season of our life.  My husband, Ian, had been let go at his job since the society's contract ran out and a for-profit group took over.  We had a baby and a toddler to help distract us from our financial concerns, but we also wanted to provide well for them.  I had just put down the baby for a nap after nursing him to sleep.  Just as I got half way through a book I was reading to our toddler, the telephone rang.  I have received bad news over the telephone before, but none had been so shocking up until then.

Before I get to the phone call, let me introduce you to Anna.  She is an elderly, godly, and gentle widow who has been beautifully molded through both blessings and adversity.  I had spontaneously requested prayer at church, one day, and Anna came up behind me and warmly placed her hands on my shoulders.  She told me that she doesn't hear well, and that she had not heard my prayer request; but, she said that she believed the Lord wanted her to tell me that, "Everything is in His hands".  I thanked her. A week later the phone call came.

My dad had died on his bathroom floor, alone.  It was sudden.  So we packed up our boys and made a nine hour journey to arrange a funeral and say goodbye to my earthly father.  His apartment showed no signs of my dad knowing he was soon leaving.  A newspaper lay open on the sofa, a Bible lay open on the kitchen table and his retirement gift Rolex lay on the bathroom counter.  I had recently talked to my dad and he had been experiencing dizziness.  It turned out that he missed his doctor's appointment, regarding this issue, the very day of his death.

I knew I would see him again in heaven, one day, but grief comes none-the-less and I would lay awake for hours until I could almost feel Anna's warm hands on my shoulders reminding me that, "Everything is in His hands".  With this comforting consolation I would release the racing thoughts and drift to sleep. Thank you, Anna, for being His hands to me.

By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.  John 13:35

in His love,
Wendy

P.S.  If you would like to see the lovely rhododendron in this photo: come back next week and I will show you it - in all its glory!