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Where Is God?

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Ten years ago my husband, Carl, of 38 years called me from work to tell me that he had just coughed up some blood. Life was good. Our 3 children were grown. We had 8 grand children. We were traveling, and had just bought a beautiful vacation home on Cape Cod. Carl was diagnosed with lung cancer. He had surgery to remove the tumor. He came through the surgery beautifully but 12 hours later he had a massive cardiac arrest. He lived for 16 days and I had to make the decision to remove him from the ventilator. We were married for 38 years. We had a good marriage. Carl was all I knew. I was devastated. It was the worse time of my life. I never wanted to go through something like that again. It took me a long time to begin to live again.

2 and ½ years later I met a wonderful man, Patrick. He had also lost his wife of 35 years two years before. We dated for over 4 years. We fell in love and got married with both our families present. Life was good again. Patrick and I were happy and having fun. Every morning I thanked God for the gift of Patrick. I always thought of Patrick as God’s gift to me after losing Carl. Patrick and I were traveling all over the world and enjoying our 13 grand children. Last October we were snorkeling in Mexico when Patrick suddenly began to struggle. Within seconds Patrick died in my arms. Here I was going through that nightmare again. My grief became all mixed up. I was grieving the loss of two men. My faith in God was shaken. I began to doubt His very existence.

One day I was walking the beach. I collect sea glass so I am always looking for it. This day I was crying out to Patrick that I never even had a chance to say “Good bye” to him and I wanted to see his blue eyes one more time. I had just turned around to walk back to my car when I saw a big piece of cobalt blue sea glass. It was still wet as the incoming tide has just dropped it at my feet.

I run a couple times a week and always go the same route. One day before Christmas I was running and one of my favorite gloves fell out of my pocket. I discovered it lost and did the route again looking for it. Every time I ran I looked for the glove but I never found it. One day in April I was running my route and I was shouting at God. I had raised my face and hands to the heavens and yelled “God, where are you in all this sorrow and pain?” As I looked up the street I saw what I thought was a dead squirrel and crossed to the other side of the road. As I was passing I looked and saw my glove lying in the middle of the road. I knew it was my glove as it was watch plaid green. I had run this route at least 50 times since I had lost that glove. It looked like it had been dropped right down from heaven. I started to cry and realized that God was showing me that He was with me. I now have the glove which is dirty and torn sitting on my dash board and I think of it as my co-pilot. I have come to realize that God cannot take my pain and sorrow away but He is with me through it all. I was trying to make sense out of something that made no sense. Grief had clouded my vision and had kept me from seeing God’s comfort and hope.

Thank you all for allowing me to share this and thank you for sharing your stories with me. It helps to know that there are others who understand.

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