My first love and my first husband Rob died after only four years of marriage. I was devastated to say the least. A widow at 31 with no children, just memories of an incredible man of God, an unbelievable love story. The last year of our marriage we had spent more days in the hospital than out of it trying to fight the cancer that was ravishing his body.
When he finally passed away from this horrible disease I didn't quite know how to react. Should I rejoice that his battle was over and he was walking on streets of gold, or should I cry hysterically for what I had lost. The battle had been so long and tiring for both of us. We had been living in Virginia at the time. My family all lived north of us in Maine. His family all lived south of us in Florida. So most of the time we were alone and all of the care had fallen to me. Physically I was exhausted. I let my mother take over the arrangements for his funeral, adding my two cents only when I had to. I knew that Rob was at peace finally, and down deep I knew that I couldn't fall to pieces in my grief.
Rob had fought his last battle so valiantly and I was so proud of him. He had never lost his faith in God. He had proven himself to be a true soldier of the cross. I nearly lost it at the viewing. Seeing him there in that silver casket with his dress blue Marine Corps uniform on, so silent, so still. Somehow I held it together that night. I heard people whispering, wondering how I could be so strong. I wondered myself most of the time. I knew however that his funeral would be a different story.
The same pastor who had married us just a few years before would be leading his funeral. Several of Rob's Marine Corps band members made the journey to Maine in January to be there for me and to honor his memory. I knew it would be hard to see them. I remember sitting on the front row that day. My father sitting beside me his arm around me. My four brothers sitting on the next pew over as pall bearers. Shock was still in their eyes that this could happen to their sister. Shock and I have to say anger too. I was the last one of us to get married, and I wasn't the youngest either. My younger brother had married two years before Rob and I. Yet now I faced an unknown life.
The praise team from Rob's church began singing and I felt so much peace in the songs. I even stood at one time, hands held up to heaven worshiping God and in my heart saying, "God I have NO clue what you are doing, but I will trust you!". The words our pastor spoke brought laughter, tears and comfort to me. I had recorded a message through my tears just minutes before the service and I held it together as I heard myself speak over this amazing man. Then it was time for Rob to have his part in his own funeral.
Rob was an incredibly talented and gifted musician. Those last few months of his life he was most often found in our upstairs guest/music room recording albums of his own music and the hymns he loved so much. It only seemed fitting to me that Rob play his trumpet one last time. As the haunting sounds of his trumpet began to play "Amazing Grace", I lost it. The tears I had been able to hold at bay for so long came streaming down my face and I bowed my head in defeat. That's when something simply amazing happened to me.
I felt another presence next to me, but that was impossible. On the other side of me was the church aisle. But I knew someone was there. I could feel the softest touch on my shoulder. I raised my head and suddenly I saw three angelic beings. One was kneeling in front of me. His head bowed but his white blonde hair completely visible. The other two were standing on either side of me. Their heads also bowed as if in honor. They were huge warrior looking men. All three similarly dressed. All with the same long white blonde hair. No wings. No halos. I didn't feel fear or cry out. I felt in my spirit that God was allowing me to see something supernatural that day. I felt like they were there for two reasons: one to honor a fallen soldier, and two to bring me comfort and to let me know that no matter what I was never alone! This whole incident happened in seconds. I didn't tell anyone about it. I guess I thought they would all think I was crazy.
I know what I saw that day. I know what I felt. Three angels sent just for me so I could know that God had not forgotten me. It seemed fitting that they should be there. Rob had several times reminded me that we should always be careful how we treat strangers because we never knew if they were angels or not. I had worried so much the night he passed away that he was going to be alone when he died. I felt like they were there to let me know that truly we are NEVER alone.
I guess in writing about this finally I am saying we should always remember that even in our darkest night God is always there right beside us. His angels it says in the word watch over us. I don't put stock into all the angel stories I hear. I certainly don't talk to my guardian angel or anything crazy, but it is comforting to know that God cares about what happens to me. It is wonderful to know that when I needed Him the most....He made sure someone was there for me!
