My counselor had told me a couple of months ago that she believes God prepares our loved ones for their own death when I described some very strange details from the week before you left for Europe. Some are too intimate to write and I believe were meant just for me and you. Still- they have brought me much comfort to recall.
You were never one of those people at church to go up for “prayer” after the service. You’ve probably gone up less than ten times in the eleven years we’ve attended together almost every week. On your last Sunday at home, we jokingly fought over who got to stay with Audrey in the nursery because neither one of us really wanted to go hear the sermon that morning. I won and you had to go. You stayed in the nursery with us for a while, helping Audrey do a puzzle and play with the play dough. When the service was over, I went with Audrey to go find you. People had already poured out of the auditorium, and then I saw you up in the front with Stephen- one of the pastors. I remember feeling very surprised while Audrey and I waited in the back for you.
Afterwards, at home, you told me that you’d had an epiphany during that day’s sermon- we hadn’t been putting God in the center lately- and without God our lives just didn’t make any sense. This was the reason for our recent discontentment/struggles, you told me.
Just the act of leaving your seat and going up to the front of the room while everyone else goes the other direction, to confess your heart to another human being, is an act of humility before God. I am so comforted that you had that moment before you left us. And I do believe…it was a part of your preparation by an omniscient being.