“We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.” ― C.S. Lewis
The morning started gently, as most mornings did. The sun was just coming up, the dew was still on the grass, sparkling like diamonds as the sun broke over the trees. The spring weather was warm, comfortable, and sweet smelling. She was pleased they had moved out of the city. The noise of traffic, the blaring of horns, the screaming of police and ambulance sirens were all there making a cacophony of noise, that disturbed the ears and rattled even to one’s soul. But here in the country, away from all that, Susan felt peace. It was glorious. Glorious until that morning she was enjoying turned into a nightmare.
She heard footsteps on the stairs and turned from the window she was staring out of just in time to see her husband, Dan, grab his chest, let out a groan and fall off the last step face first in the hallway.
She screamed, ran to him, attempted to turn him over and struggled to get him on his back. He was gasping for breath. She got up from his side, ran to the counter, grabbing her phone and called 911. The information spilled from her lips, and she was assured that help would be on its way. She was asked what she thought were a thousand questions, most of which she was too rattled to answer.
She was cradling Dan’s head in her lap, staring first into his face then at the door. Where was the ambulance? The sounds she hated – the sirens – when she lived in town, was the sound she longed for at that very moment.
“Where are they? Hurry. Please hurry”, she whispered to herself.
She also whispered prayers to God, believing He wanted only the best for her and her family. At the same time, she wondered how this could be the best. Can the pain of watching a loved one having a heart attack, and knowing the only thing you can do is call 911 and then cradle him in your arms, can this be the best? Her faith was in pieces; shaken in ways she never thought it could be.
The siren reached her driveway, went silent and she rushed to the door to allow the EMT’s in. Quickly they assessed and moved Dan into the ambulance and headed for the hospital. Susan followed in her car, nervously tailgating the ambulance.
Dan didn’t die, but his weakened body took much time to recover. During that time, he, who had not given God much thought, even though Susan constantly urged him to go to worship with her, began reading the Bible. The book of Matthew became his most treasured reading. He read it from the first chapter to the last over and over.
When Dan’s strength had returned enough to allow him to leave the house, it was a Sunday. Susan was in the bedroom, dressing for church, as was her practice. Dan, she imagined, was in the kitchen getting coffee. When she left her bedroom, dressed and ready to go, she got to the bottom of the stairs and saw Dan, standing by the front door. He was dressed in nice clothes, smiling, and holding out his hand to her – “Hurry Susan or we’ll be late for church.”