When the sun came out in the middle of the night

I can remember lying in my bed and watching clock as the minutes counted in the hours many times in my life, I hadn’t realised how precious that time was. I would often use this sleepless time to think or write stories in my mind, but I found the best way to shorten those hours, the longest hours in my life was to pray.

On some nights I would pray silently at my husbands side, he would snore unaware of my consciousness. I remember trying to roll him over to stop his snoring disturbing my concentration. On some nights it would work beautifully and he would almost turn himself as I applied pressure to his back. Then the night would be silent and I could pray. Other nights I would leave my bed and go to the lounge and pray aloud, sometimes I would sing in tongues, or put the stereo on and dance until dawn.

There were times in my life when circumstances, like pregnancy forced me to get up several times and visit the toilet. I remember with my daughter I often felt quite scared at the thought of giving birth, and would lie awake for hours worrying.

When I was carrying my son, it was different, I was then a new Christian, and I used to pray and then eventually sleep. I remember that during the night even years later when my children were adults, I would still lie awake, worrying about them as they made their own way in the world, but prayer always came to my rescue and even if I laid awake for the majority of the night, in prayer, I would then wake up feeling refreshed. It used to amaze my husband that I looked, so pretty as he said once, considering I had not slept.

He could never grasp the concept of God, and I felt so sad for him. I prayed. Of course I did, but his mind was closed. Padlocked shut. We had had many discussions over the years, and not just me, friends from church had tried to reach him too, but now after many years of anguish I finally realised that God alone will call him, when he is ready. I still prayed of course, right up until the end.

Thankfully all of our children were saved, they grew up with Christ, so it was a natural process for them. I can remember smiling as they could not comprehend that I had spent the first thirty odd years of my life unaware of Jesus. They saw their father of course and had spoken to him many times, but he had always remained on his side of the fence, so no ground had been conquered there. Even when the signs of Jesus's return began to start happening in the world, like September 11th, then floods, famine, earthquakes, Tsunami’s and the many wars, the signs only seemed to fuel his argument that there was not a God, because of the disruption and the deaths, despite us actually reading out some of the bible to him and trying to explain why. Evolution remained his favourite solution, but even though his explanations seemed floorless at times, still he stuck with them.

I remember one of my closest friends had said to me that he might change on his deathbed. I argued that you could not possibly know when you were going to die unless you were ill, and even then the doctors would not always tell you. My friend had smiled patiently at me and said, God will decide whether or not to call him just be patient. I considered his words carefully and started to watch for signs in my husband, as we were not getting any younger, to see it he was being gently touched by God. At first I couldn't see any, but one day he said something out of character, and then I realised that God was with him, even if he wasn't aware of it yet. I continued to watch him until I couldn't anymore, my pain became too much I needed to go to hospital.

The doctors were very kind to me, they said I would recover, but I knew that it was time for me to go. My friend was right. I was suddenly aware that God was calling me home. Although I was happy to leave this life with my children and my grandchildren behind, I could not find peace about my husband. So I laid wake for many hours, and many nights until the final night.

The final night wasn't any different from the others, I changed for bed, cleaned my teeth and kissed my husband good night. Of course now I needed to take my medicine as well, to ease my pain, but I was used to it. As my husband slept I prayed, silently. I could no longer get out of bed and go downstairs, since it was too much for me. I longed to dance again, but my body just wasn't up to it. It was an effort to walk, and I hated using the frame. It made me feel so old, yet inside I still felt like a child; a free spirit in love as I did when I had found Jesus for the first time.

The minutes on the clock counted the hours away, but now I could not see them, my sight having failed as part of my illness. I prayed as usual, and the Lord was with me. I could feel his touch in my heart. Then I could feel his presence in the room. My whole body seemed to be filled with light somehow. I remember wondering if my husband could see it, but he was asleep, I could hear him snore.

Suddenly the brightness came again very gently at first, I was given time to adjust I think, then brighter still the light came, then I wanted to reach out to my husband I felt such love, it was strange I realised that my whole body was surrounded in light. I tried to reach outside of the light, but the light came with me. I struggled and managed to sit up, feeling very peaceful. I can remember leaning over to him and whispering, "I love you" I said, goodbye.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as the light came into the room. "Lord", I whispered "please don't leave him behind". A feeling of peace and love suddenly seemed to overwhelm me, I was drowning. I could taste my own salty tears on my lips, yet my heart was leaping inside, I was so much alive. I felt so young again.

I can remember years ago when I saw him for the first time, my husband, we were so young, so in love, over the years we were still in love, but the early awareness of each other had sadly faded over time. I picked up my sheet and wiped the tears from my face. Oh how I wished at that moment that I had done more to reach him. The Lord touched me again, it was wonderful, this time he healed me and I looked down at my body it looked so young. I could move with out pain, I could see “Oh Lord I can see!”

Suddenly I laughed and got out of bed. I danced around the room caught in his love. There seemed to be a tunnel of sunlight that came into the room, where the window had been, it felt wonderful to feel the sun on my skin. As I danced towards the tunnel I could feel warmth like a summers day. I wanted to run to go straight away. For one last second I looked at my husbands sleeping form. Then I froze.

Next to my husband I was there sitting up. I knew that it was my old body, but it looked so young. I had to go over and take a closer look. I looked as I had when I had first met my husband. I knew he would finally see the truth of God. He could not ignore the evidence that the Lord had placed before him. I cried again, at the Lords answer to my prayers, this time my tears poured out with great relief, I feel peace like I had never experienced in my life. I looked towards the tunnel, it was time to go.

I walked around the bed and kissed my husband for the final time. Then I walked in the light, then I ran, and ran. It was like running into a lovers arms, one that you hadn't see for such a long time. A lover who stood across the room from you, you wanted to touch him but you couldn't. My tears soaked his clothes, the Lord's arms gathered me up and I let go. My emotions ran riot. My tears became a stream, until finally there were no tears left. His eyes looked at mine so tenderly and I smiled shyly.

"My treasure" he said, "Welcome home."


But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ
1 Corinthians 15:57

The Rowing Boat

The keys hung from the lock of the heavy wooden door. It was the entrance to the boot room. Much in the old house had not changed. As I opened the door I smiled but then I blinked back a stray tear. I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, as my eyes caught sight of my fathers wellington boots. My father had passed on, but he had had a good long life.

I was still dressed in my Sunday suit; the others had now left the wake, so the house was quiet. I felt sad but at the same time I knew a peace within my heart. My father had been a vicar so I knew that he now rested in a better place. I suddenly heard voices, my wife had returned from her walk with our children. On impulse I shut myself in the boot room. I took off my shoes and put on my fathers wellingtons. I just needed to get away.

I opened the back door and walked purposely across the lawn. Mud stuck to the soles of the boots, then a few leaves started to collect as I walked. I suddenly knew where I wanted to go, to say my final goodbye to my father. I walked out of the back gate at the bottom of the garden and turned right into the little dried up stream.

I followed the course of the dry river bed as it widened until I came to the boathouse. It was old and dirty now, the door was rotten, but I remembered it as a child, brightly painted. My dad used to store his rowing boat here. As I remembered I found myself smiling. Dad always used to lift me into the boat and he would push the boat out into the river with me in it. He used the oar to help it rest against the bank, and tied the boat to the little tree. The tree was gone now. My dad used to wade back to the boathouse door to close it.

I never once saw my dad fall in the water but I used to tease him. My dad would smile and wink, and then he would grab the side of our rowing boat and rock it gently to get his own back on me. My dad used to loosen the rope and then climb into the boat. We would ride down the river for a while until it widened further then he would stop rowing and we would both drift with the slight current. Many times we would feed the ducks together.

Tears suddenly gushed from my eyes as I looked at the old boathouse. The rowing boat was gone now. The course of the river had been diverted due to a new road being put in that bypassed the town. I wandered slowly along the dry river bed unaware of my surroundings for a while until I suddenly became aware of a strong pair of arms holding me in my pain, though I could see no one. I knew who the arms belonged to because I had faith too; just like my father.

God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Matthew 5:4