One year ago today I woke to the worst day of my life. The start of the worst year. As I look back on the horrors and the pain though, I see, through it all, the goodness of God. Truths from His Word made the unbearable able to be borne.
There are no “ifs” in God’s will. How often I heard Paul say that! And I’m thankful for this truth, because I encouraged Paul to go to Chiang Mai that morning. He had given up the trip, which was the only “break” he allowed himself, because I was sick with Covid. He wouldn’t leave me. I felt better that morning and I insisted he go. “If only” I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been in that motorcycle wreck. But that day was Paul’s appointment with death. God is sovereign and He decided his day of death before Paul was ever born. Because I know that, I’m free from guilt and the dreaded “if onlies.”
I know that Paul is alive and happy – just in another place. I had the unthinkable task of identifying his body that morning. In a third-world country like Thailand, things aren’t done with a view to sparing feelings. He was not on a clean table covered with a sheet. He was in a body bag, and the man in charge couldn’t get the knots untied to open it. He finally succeeded and pulled the bag down to reveal Paul’s face. I saw his traumatic injuries just as they were when he was picked up from the road. That picture is forever etched on my memory. I was comforted to know that Paul wasn’t in that poor battered body, but in a Heavenly one that bore no signs of his motorcycle wreck. That fact has kept me from nightmares this past year. ( I Peter 1:3-4)
God sends help when we need it. Wichai and Moses were the ones who broke the news of his death as gently as possible. Anna stayed with me every minute. Pann took care of the mounds of red tape that comes with the death of a foreigner in Thailand. I just followed them around crying as we went from hospital to police station to government office. I really didn’t know where we were going or what we were doing, but it didn’t matter. She took care of everything for me. I can’t imagine how I could have managed alone. But God knew my need and supplied it.
God had mercy on Paul. My biggest concern was about whether Paul suffered as he died. I knew that he was dead on arrival at the hospital. But how long did it take the ambulance to get there? Did he lie in a ditch suffering for half an hour before the ambulance came? It’s required by Thai law that a foreigner dying in Thailand must have an autopsy. This doctor was blunt and her findings made me shiver, but it allayed my fear. He had about six injuries that would have caused his death, including the traumatic brain injury. However, she told me she was sure that a broken neck was the cause of death. She assured me it was instantaneous and he wouldn’t have suffered at all. I’m so thankful he was spared a long, painful death!
God gave me a promise at the very first that he would be with me through the valley shadowed by Paul’s death. He kept His promise. The first days I was anesthetized by shock. I was able to greet the crowds of people waiting for us at home in Mae Ai. All the preachers Paul had worked with were there. All the boys who had come through our Christian School greeted me with hugs and tears. I endured the week of funerals as countless people asked to have pictures of me with them beside the cooler which held Paul’s coffin. Surely, I must have eaten and slept at some point. Something must have filled the days before the funerals at night. I have only the vaguest memories of that week. I’m glad. Everyone commented on how “strong” I was. I wasn’t. I wasn’t totally there, and that was the goodness of God. (Psalm 23:4)
Because He was my strength and the confidence in His sovereignty upheld me, I was able to greet the man who was driving the truck which hit Paul and tell him of my hope in the Gospel. Paul was without doubt alive in Heaven, I told him, but not because he was such an amazing, kind, giving man. He’s there now because Jesus paid for his sins on the cross and gave him His own righteousness. Jesus prepared a place for him by His own suffering.
God saw all the things I was not capable of handling and made sure I didn’t have to walk through them alone.So many people took care of details that were beyond me. The builder who had been working on our new dorm arranged for chairs and microphones, etc. for the funerals. Mali and Pann took care of the planning and logistics – like food for all the people who came. Some stayed, sleeping beside Paul’s casket. Others traveled from many miles away. I had nothing to do but show up each night.
I’m thankful for the people who came from even longer distances to stay by me. Rusty van der Net from Australia was the first to arrive. He sat beside me during each funeral and recorded the funerals on Facebook live. My siblings and one of our supporting churches donated the money to send my kids to fly over and be with me. Paul David and Peter arrived in time for the final funeral and the graveside service. The girls came a week later. That was the greatest gift I could have been given and the greatest comfort.
Other missionaries and friends were there for me, too. Matt and Brittany Villandry hosted the funeral services that were held in Chiang Mai. That was no light task! Joshua Johnson preached one of the funerals and he and Sabrina stood by me during that hard time. Many others came to his funeral, including the manager of the hotel where we stayed when we were in Chiang Mai. Paul touched so many lives. Seeing the many flowers and the crowds of people honoring him was a balm to my heart.
Another comfort showed up on my Facebook feed. There were so many posts from people his ministry had touched. There were memorials from people he had led to the Lord, some he witnessed to as a teenager. There were posts from church members who grew up under his ministry, from pastors who counted him as a best friend. Over and over they talked about His gentleness, his generosity, his care for people, his love for children. And most of all they talked of his faithful, consistent life lived for the Lord he loved so much. I read those tributes over and over during those days and found solace. I read them again this week, and felt a renewed surge of gratitude.
The year that followed was hard in many ways as I learned many lessons about grief, and, I regret to say, about anger. It’s a natural part of grief because it is an easier emotion than sorrow. But I had to work through the anger and bitterness. Again, He supplied me with wise counselors. He directed me through a friend to Griefshare. I attended those counseling meetings online since, of course, there wasn’t one I could go to locally. It was a tremendous help. (Prov. 15:22)
Also, I had advisors in my two brothers and in friends who listened to me cry over the phone and heard my troubles. It would be easy to look only at the people who hurt me. I’m choosing instead to thank God for the people who were there to pick me up and comfort me. Who helped me see things from a more reasonable perspective. I went through the worst trials of my life at the time I was at my lowest ebb. Yet, my Heavenly Father was with me all the time and never let go of my hand. (Psalm 46:1-3)
I should add that someone who is in broken with grief isn’t a rational or easy person to deal with. Looking back, I can see many ways I could have saved a situation or handled things more graciously. At the time, I couldn’t. And I learned how important it is to give grace and to treat gently those whose grief is fresh and overwhelming.
Looking back over this year, I can see how God used every single situation to work out His will. My mistakes, the mistakes of others, all the tension and uncertainties – they led to where we are now. We have an established church and a ministry that is not only continuing, but growing. We will soon have a children’s home license and are expecting eleven new children next month. The preachers’ training is back and again almost overflowing our facilities. We are where God wants us, doing what He called us to do. Our young leaders are wise beyond their years and are growing in wisdom and responsibility. They are teachable and have a wise counselor and advisor in Bro. Danny Roten from Sherwood.
A quote from C.H. Spurgeon became a defining truth for me this year. It was a promise I clung to and saw fulfilled.
“The day will come when you will be grateful for every blow, even grateful for the bitter pangs of unkindness from friends…. Instructed by affliction, you will become a comforter to the afflicted.”
He went on to say that Joseph underwent the worst blows for many years, including betrayal by his own brothers. Yet he saw God’s purpose.
“Grief notwithstanding, there will be born to you, as there was to Joseph, a Manasseh, (which means forgetting) for God will make you forget all your labor. And there will be an Ephraim, (fruitful) for God will make you fruitful in the land of your affliction.” (Gen. 41:51-52)
That’s my prayer. I want to always remember Paul. To keep those precious memories and to always be thankful for the privilege of being his wife for more than 50 years. I want to forgive and forget the pain and all the trials of this year. And I pray that God would make me fruitful and a comforter to the afflicted.
God is still good and I can still praise Him!!
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