After returning home, and over the next couple of months, I began to feel that the fog of grief was beginning to lift, though it still feels "hard to breath." Many friends have been so very helpful: sharing their stories of griefs both old and new; listening; praying; encouraging. And yet, there was still a sense of claustrophobia and unfinished business.

Judi and I had been planning to visit our daughter (and her husband) in Alaska and our son (and his wife) in Texas.

We (used out of habit), have been so blessed by our congregation and our Elders. They have covered us with love and prayers, and have graciously given me time out of the pulpit whenever I have needed it. This was especially noticeable during the battle with cancer.

Judi and I had committed to each other that whenever a family member was in the hospital, one of us would stay with him or her, full-time, until released from the hospital. So, during the many weeks that Judi spent in the hospital, and frequently for at least a couple weeks after her return home, I was given the freedom to be with her as her full-time husband and care-giver. I am so grateful for that freedom. I do not know how people who go through something like this, and yet must keep working full-time, do it. I have been in a daze for so long.

My Elders and congregation just kept encouraging us...and giving love and support. They kept tellling me that though I was not in the pulpit, I was preaching the most important sermon of my career. They graciously allowed me to do something which I never dreamed I would need to do in such a way as this.

I have often taught that the relationship of a husband and wife is intended to reflect the relationship between Christ and His Bride, the Church. And that as Christ gave up His life for His Bride, so we as husbands are also called to give up our lives for our brides. As Christians, this has the potential to be the most effective and encompassing testimony we can give to unbelievers. Too many of us view this relationship from a worldly perspective and live it out in a worldly way that we often destroy one of the best evangelism tools God has given us.

Well, now, the Elders and congregation have blessed me with a couple more seasons out of the pulpit. I am currently visiting my daughter (and her husband) in Alaska for a couple weeks. I will be back in the pulpit during the month of August, then off to Texas to visit our Son (and his wife).

Last night, we received news of a new grief for a good friend and her family. Her eldest son was camping with his father. He had gone only because he wanted to witness Christ to his unbelieving Dad. While swimming and diving, something happened. The son went under water and disappeared. After several hours of searching, they found his lifeless body. I pray that the family will know God's comfort as He pours out His grace upon them. I pray that the Father will come to know the Christ whom his own son was trying to show him.

The last hour of sleep last night, was filled with an unusual dream of Judi.

This morning, Jonelle is going to accompany me as I share Ken Medema's song Lord of the Troubled Sea. The message of how God will carry us through whatever trials and testings we are in, if we will abide in His love, has been my constant foundation during the past few years. The song has been a precious expression for me, made fresh again by the death of my young friend.

When we depend so much upon Jesus, that it is as if we could not breathe without Him, or sing without Him, or even survive without Him (and I have news for us...we can't-it is He who sustains us by the power of His Word), we find that even in the deepest trials we face, we can breathe-for He gives us breath; we can sing-for He is our song; and we can survive-for He is our help in time of need.