I was so relieved to see the peace and strength in Amy’s eyes.
I had prayed that He carry her the way He lifted me over the past six months. I prayed believing, but I had to see for myself.
My initial prayers prompted me to write to her within days of the accident, asking her to trust in the Lord and offering to just sit and listen, having been where she is now. Bringing the letter to her home, I felt déjà vu washing over me with every emotion I had felt in my own home those first days after Tom had died. The beautiful friends and neighbors all over her home cleaning, straightening, preparing meals, making arrangements. My mind automatically blended the faces of these kind women in Amy’s home to the faces that were in my home, Celeste, Debbie, Kate, Cindy, Edie, Stephanie, Nicole and many others. They were all over my home- loving on me – trying to do something at a time when cleaning is about all you can do.
Each day when I pass the accident site, my heart skips in prayer for Amy. As Valentines Day came and went, and heart shaped balloons danced over the accident site, I whispered, "please carry her, Lord". I am, He answered.
To see Amy stand, with conviction in her eyes, before an audience memorializing her husband, was an answer to prayer. "Tell people what an impact they have on your life," she spoke, "they probably don’t really know."
That’s the peace I was looking for. Amy is being carried. When her focus shifts from her grief to helping others grow spiritually, even for a short moment, that’s peace. That’s being carried. When Amy dedicates donations being made on Brian’s behalf to charity, that’s trust that He’s in control of her greater purpose.
Thank you, Lord, for carrying another widow as You have carried me.