Grief cannot shake me if I walk beside you,

My hand in Yours along the darkening way….

Who can make trouble when You send me peace? (unknown)

I’m a happy and contented woman. But there have been times when I was not. Today marks the tenth anniversary of my second husband Blair Graybill’s death. It was a totally unexpected death–but then, all deaths aren’t expected. Later, perhaps, but not now. Blair was fine until he wasn’t fine any longer. They told us it was a brain aneurysm. He wasn’t dreaming or thinking. There was nothing going on in his quiet unconsciousness. The other day, I stumbled across a letter I’d written to a friend after he died

Life is so short and uncertain.  Blair and I had a perfect last day together.  Never would he or I have imagined it was to be his last.  Little did we know when we shared our cup of coffee on that Friday morning, it would be our last time on this earth to do so.  Little did Blair know he would experience his last training session with his trainer at the gym that afternoon.  Or that we would have only that last dinner together.  We know not when our time on earth will end and we will enter into eternity which is far longer than our life here on earth. 

My husband Jim and I lead a grief program designed to help those who are grieving the death of a loved one. Each week I hear their stories of loss. There are tears and even laughter during our two hours each week. They are adjusting to life without someone very prominent in their life whether it’s a mother, father, son, daughter, husband, friend, fiancé. We’re there because someone was there for us during those dark days.

I’m often asked, when I tell someone two of my husbands died, “How can you go through that twice?” The only answer I can provide is the quiet comfort I experienced during my deepest and most sorrowful days. In the oldest book of the Bible, Job says…

….He giveth quietness.

I was bereft. In shock. I cried oceans of tears, but I possessed quietness. And that is the peace I’m talking about. Not of myself, but of the Holy Spirit. When Jesus left earth for heaven, he told his disciples he would send a comforter to them–the Holy Spirit. And during those early days of shock and disbelief, the Holy Spirit was there–and he’s with me now as well. I had peace and quietness. As the days progressed and I realized Blair wasn’t coming back, yet I knew I wasn’t alone. I experienced the quietness from the Holy Spirit.

For the most part, I don’t shed tears any more for my dear husbands who are no longer here, but this morning, I did. I briefly remembered those dark and difficult days and I was reminded of that ever-presence of the Holy Spirit and how I was comforted. During those early weeks after Blair died, I wrote letters to different family members and friends who as far as I knew, did not know Jesus in a personal way–except perhaps to curse his name. This is part of another letter I wrote:

Blair’s sudden death was a wake up call for me in that we don’t know when God will call us into eternity.  And more than anything, I want YOU to be in heaven with us.  I’m not sure of where you stand with God and that is why I’m writing you this letter.  I’m praying you will make the choice of following Christ. 

Those sentences might be for you or a friend you know. That Friday evening before Blair died, he seemed perfectly normal, but there was a vein that was ready to burst and end his life. He was ready. Are you?

I treasure the short time I had with Blair. He was a good and loving man. Rest in Peace, dear Blair, I’ll see you later on the other side…..

Table Mountain, South Africa, December 2009.