Then one day a few weeks following Judith’s diagnoses, I found myself home alone. My husband was at work, Joey, in school, and Judith lay in the hospital. All her reports were good. She entered remission and could come home soon. To live a few months – at most, I reminded myself.
On this particular day, I went into Judith’s room and tidied up her dolls, her scrapbook and her school notes. Then I walked to her closet, opened the door and looked at her things. I reached out my arms and encircled all her clothes. I gathered and drew them to me. I buried my face in the material, which smelled of her sweet little body. I sobbed for a while.
An awareness distracted me and something about me changed. I couldn’t define the difference. What is it I need to know? Have I gone mad? I stopped crying, aware my mood had become altered. Why? I looked around, searching for an answer and impulsively left Judith’s room.
I walked from room to room, almost with urgency. I’m alone or am I? The doors are locked. Nothing’s changed. Yet, something is bidding me. What?
Finally I opened the door of a guest bedroom, not knowing why, because the room was rarely used. Then I walked straight to the bed, without purpose, and knelt there. My cheek fell against the cool spread, where my tears poured.
It came so natural for me to whisper or think, Lord, I cannot do this alone. Please!
At that second my total being became engulfed by a presence so overwhelming. I didn’t need to speak or think further. I stayed there for several seconds, probably minutes, so aware of His exquisite embrace. Every cell in my body felt aware of IT. This is God. This is what He is. Thank you, my Heavenly Father. You’re wonderful. I’m alright. I can bear it now. Whatever is ahead, I will praise you eternally for this revelation of Yourself.
I didn’t speak aloud, but the outpouring of His love and the catharsis of my pent-up soul made me know He was the answer. I would not be alone again.
Finally, I arose and backed out of the room, aware that I would never be the same. The anguish, which previously gripped me, disappeared. He carried my grief.
I’m not sure about a light in the guest room where He met me. I don’t think so. I didn’t hear an audible voice. But, I felt His presence. Nothing could have enhanced or diminished the experience. I left the room, hugging my arms across my breast, savouring the newness of His Spirit that filled my heart with joy.
Soon Joey and John came home. I met them with the news of how God changed me. They’d never seen me like this. We all laughed, played and celebrated His presence. We’d lived in a vacuum of misery for such a long time. Their lives changed too.
From that day forward, our home was not the same. God resided there and He went with us every step of the way!
I comforted those friends, who previously tried to help me. My prayers now included thanksgiving and praise – instead of enumerating all the ways God could please me.
The people, who continued to pray for us, witnessed the power of their prayers by the change in us. Some rejoiced; others stood amazed and some were perplexed.
“Does Kay understand her daughter is terminally ill? Poor lady. Are we sure she’s alright?” Some said.