Jesus, a Love Like No Other!

Introduction
Get out of the boat! Something big! Something big for you, maybe not for someone else, but for you, it is big!” She said as she prayed for my distraught soul seeking to know what plans God had for me now. Ken, my husband of 19 years, had passed away just a few months earlier. Defiantly, I was not ready to let him go. Surely his life could not have ended; there was more for him. I just knew there was more! But sadly, for us, God took him home.
Sitting in the car after the morning church service, I was overwhelmed with tears and thinking just how does one “get out of the boat?” Was it more Bible study? More meditation with the Lord? More praying? What? In addition, a commanding thought that somebody had to tell Ken’s “story” played vividly in my mind. After sharing these thoughts with one of my dear sisters, a seed was planted. “MaryAnn, I believe you are the one,” she advised. It, perhaps, was food for thought. …Me?
Later in the week, a newspaper advertisement jumped out at me! Actually, I had never taken much time to read the daily paper, but on a whim early one spring day I was determined I was going to do just that. This ad expressed a need for volunteer legacy writers with our county hospice organization. Immediately, I turned tail… “NO, never could I do that.” Not only was it too soon, I simply didn’t believe myself capable of writing well enough for such an important task. And, honestly, my earlier encounter with this group had left a strange sense of fear within me. I did not want to have anything to do with anything or anyone that dealt with death. Nevertheless, I prayed that if God wanted me to sign up for these four training sessions, He would have to keep it heavily on my mind and give me willingness in my heart.
Now, almost five years later, here are the words written through the struggle of countless tears, anguish, and sorrow in addition to a revelation within my heart that I believe God has asked me to share with you.

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Hopefully, you will see the hand of God in your own life as you read through this account of one man’s life, which is an illustration of God’s mercy and of His love. Furthermore, how does one go on living after your loved one leaves this earth? What about the ones left behind enveloped in anguish? A portion of us dies as well. And, what does a person do with a crushed faith? Could it be a paradigm of rebuilding dry broken bones?
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Standing in the driveway each day, each evening, looking up and searching through the distance of atmosphere hoping for a glimpse of Heaven was futile. Nevertheless, I longed to visibly see Heaven, literally. Ken was there, and I needed to stay connected. Never was I this anxious when my grandparents, older sister, mom or dad passed away. For them, it was a natural progression and an expected outcome. Of course, I had grieved their absence, but much differently.
A false tunnel vision of sorts developed, as if I was wearing blinders. Nothing was actually wrong with my eyes. But my eyes were not seeing. Looking at people eye to eye was impossible. Remembering, trying to describe a new person could only be done in vague sort of way, details were illusive. Stopping at a traffic sign was good, but just by the grace of God I narrowly escaped a couple of accidents due to not seeing oncoming traffic. I was seriously adrift in another world.
How to find our way? There is NO map in this giant arid wilderness. Truly, I did not know, much less understand. Life now was void of meaning. Why was it that God did not heal Ken? The question remained. We had trusted; we had believed. We had followed the Bible’s direction: “Go to the elders of the church, let them anoint you with oil so that you might live” (James 5:14-16 author’s paraphrase).
We had sojourned the eleven hour round trip seeking elders from our home church for that single purpose. We went for the anointing oil and for serious prayer. Trusted devout prayer warriors and friends gathered to pray over, with, and for Ken. He was filled with the presence of the Lord, totally surrendered. Yet, things didn’t happen as we had anticipated. Why not?
Another seriously gripping question hung in the air: Just exactly what does a person do with crushed faith, dashed hope, and confidence lost? GOD, was He even listening? Surely not. Did He even care? Does He actually have a plan? What was the plan? Where was the meaning of life? What was I supposed to do? How was I to know? Who am I now in all this aloneness? Where was God in all this upheaval? Was it even possible to reconnect with faith? Had we believed in vain? Were the teachings from our pastors wrong? Who were we to discuss these pertinent questions with?
In addition, sweet and kind well meaning friends along with concerned family members started asking questions. What was I going to do? Then, they suggested I move home, to be near them. Being wanted and the suggestions given were wonderful, but Decisions! Questions! Oh so many questions and no satisfactory answers. Nothing seemed right. My mind could only function on remote control. My thoughts were in a constant and horrible whirl; they would not settle. It seemed I could not think even one complete thought without additional words and questions disruptively forcing their way into my mind. What could possibly mend this gaping imploded heart and mind?