“…Mom, words can’t cover the ache you feel. With great love comes great pain—and you’ve enjoyed a romance for the record books…” Jonathan Zempel solemnly said at his father’s funeral.
If I hadn’t spent a weekend in their home two weeks prior to Tom Zempel’s unexpected death in 2016, I wouldn’t have understood what Jonathan meant. But I saw a very special marriage that weekend. There was kindness, teamwork, affection, and a fondness for each other that I’d seldom witnessed before. My friend Jane and her husband, Tom, were in sync. They delighted in each other and deeply enjoyed being together. It was the best of all romances. The spark of still being “in love” with each other was undeniable.
When I first visited them, I didn’t know what to expect. Jane and Tom were about ten years older than me. I knew who they were, but I didn’t really know them because I was only eleven when they married and moved away. I hadn’t seen them in almost fifty years! When I rang their front doorbell, I peeked through the window and saw them walking together down the hallway to let me in. They looked as delighted as children on Christmas morning and might have even been holding hands. I stepped through the threshold to the front row seat of a happy marriage.
Last month I wrote about their son Ben, who was born with Down syndrome. I had wondered what it was like to be a widow having a son with Down syndrome. Jane and Ben both agreed, God makes no mistakes, and they shared about living with disability and widowhood.
I then wanted to ask Jane if we could talk about Tom’s death. I wondered if she still believed that God makes no mistakes? I knew that was a tough question, and she might not be ready to answer. But I also knew her as an excellent biblical counselor; she’d probably asked it herself over the past six years.
THE STRUGGLE
I took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer.
“So, Jane,” I said, “could I ask you this: does Tom’s death fit under the category of God Makes No Mistakes? And if so, was that hard to accept?” (Please do not ask this of your widow friends—this is between them and God. Consider this article as a very unique and sacred glimpse of a widow’s challenge).
There was a thoughtful pause before she answered. And then, with all sincerity, she said, “Yes! Most definitely, my heart agrees with the fact that God makes no mistakes….”
However, she said she’d wrestled with the Lord over it for more than three years. “I knew where my heart needed to go, but it took a lot of repeated repenting and pleading for strength to not only accept, but to also embrace God’s plan.”
As I mentioned last month, the journey of aligning her will with God’s sovereign plan was not new. There was Ben’s birth, then Tom’s heart diagnosis and major surgery, her cancer, and many other challenges of life. But when Tom died, the journey of accepting God’s plan all alone was the hardest of all.
“The big challenge,” she told me, “was my presumption that because God knew me, He also knew how deeply I loved Tom, how dependent I was on him, how much being his wife was the joy of my life...” Surely, she thought, God would allow her to “exit” to Heaven first, not Tom!
How could she believe in God’s sovereign control and good plan when that’s not what happened?
As a counselor, she recognized this struggle and had a key question to ask herself: “What’s going on with my heart?” Her answer uncovered a deep desire that each of us probably struggles to admit: “I wanted my life to be comfortable. I didn’t want ‘THY will be done;’ I wanted MY will.”
How could she embrace God’s plan when Tom’s death went against her desire not only for Tom’s presence but also for a life of comfort? How could the truth that had anchored them when Ben was born—all things work together for good to them that love God (Romans 8:28)—apply in this terribly “not good” situation?
The Turning Point
“I kept bumping up against the truth of God’s ultimate and good sovereign plan,” Jane said. She explained, “I love how someone has pictured how we should respond to life with a train illustration.”
The engine contains the "Fact” of our situation. The coal car provides the “Fuel” of what we choose to put our faith in to help us. The caboose is then the emotional response. Feelings happen of course, but we can put them in the “Caboose.” Feelings don’t get to lead or determine our faith.
Jane explained it like this: “I have the fact: Tom went home to Heaven.” “Now I have a choice. Will I believe in this all-knowing, all-powerful, all-loving God who saved me? Will I believe that His sovereign plan is designed to be best for me and bring Him the most glory?”
“Or will I continue to argue and fuss? I have a choice; that choice exposes where my faith is and what or who I am really worshiping. The problem is my heart. Feelings can quickly become the engine that is driving the train—which can lead to really ‘going off the rails.’”
“I would add that attempting (and not always succeeding) to acknowledge God’s control in the little things (like when the washing machine broke down, or when we took the wrong road, etc.) helped the response of—this is not a mistake, this is God’s divine will being worked out—come more quickly to mind.”
Living With Hope
“Do I miss Tom? Every. Single. Day. Many times each day! But, I’m seeing so many good things happening in my life. Chief among them is a deeper love for my dear Savior. My confidence in His loving provision and protection over me as a widow has grown exponentially! And I long for Heaven like never before. I see myself as a pilgrim just passing through on this journey. I’m not HOME yet!”
“Until I get there, widowhood has afforded me additional time. My three children: Jonathan, Ben, and Amy; my eight treasured grandchildren; as well as church family, counselees, and even people reading this article, have eternal value. I want to invest my time and purpose to reflect their value and God’s glory.”
She continued, “Someone said, ‘If we knew what God knows, we would ask for exactly what He gives us.’ That’s a hard pill to put down at times, but I’m at such a place in relying on God’s sovereignty.”
God’s sovereignty has brought Jane deep comfort. She pictures it like the Puritans said centuries ago, “It’s a soft place to pillow my head.” //
This Thanksgiving, may the understanding that God makes no mistakes be a comfort to you too.
~ ferree
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Ferree Hardy has helped thousands of widows through her book, “Postcards from the Widows’ Path,” small groups, speaking, and personal coaching, but touching one life at a time is what matters most to her. She holds a BA from Moody Bible Institute, and was a pastor’s wife in Ohio for over twenty years before her first husband died. She’s happily remarried now, and her readers know that moving seems to have become a hobby for her. But she also enjoys backyard chickens, aims to read fifty books a year, and loves to bake. Learn more by visiting her blog.