These past few weeks have been the toughest I’ve had since Frank’s death.  His death has hit me much harder emotionally than before.  I don’t know why, don’t need to know. That’s just the way it is.  Since Oct. 15 when he entered the hospital for the first time last year, it seems I have been reliving our last months together.  It was his Thanksgiving week hospitalization that  I knew we were at the beginning of the end.  This was when I told our sons that we needed to cease praying for healing and begin praying that if God wasn’t going to heal Frank, He would take him home.  God so faithfully answered my prayers in 2000 and 2002 regarding his cancer allowing Frank to have 13 years of the 10-15 I asked for.  Our grandchildren knew the wonderful man their grandfather was and knew that it was because of Jesus Christ.  They won’t forget him.  He is now at home with his Father God and perfectly healed.  I wouldn’t want him back in the pain he had.

This knowledge doesn’t make my adjustment easy. I don’t know what I am supposed to do now.  I have too much time on my hands and not enough to do.  I keep asking God what I am supposed to be doing, but no answer so far.  I do know that He has more for me to do — much more — than what I am doing now.  I also know that He is doing what I need to bring me through this period of my life whole.  I am asking my friends simply to pray for me when I cross their minds.  Pray for wisdom and insight.

“The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want.” Ps. 23:1 He will take care of me just as He said.