“She’s gone.” Those were the saddest and worst words I had ever heard. “She” was my wife. As I looked at her lifeless body, I was stunned by the suddenness of her death. At the time she was admitted to the hospital, I had already been informed that my wife’s condition was terminal. Yet, I had hoped that I would have enough time to prepare for what was to come. I didn’t.
The hardest part of my ordeal took place just a few minutes later, when my nine-year-old son Dawson arrived at the hospital. I had to tell him that he had lost his mother. Nothing could have prepared me for his reaction. He wailed as if he was on fire, and I could do nothing to alleviate his pain.
A storm was raging within my life. Like a hurricane, it threatened to cause havoc. Yet, the storm did not destroy me. Like a ship at sea, I had an anchor to keep me from being tossed about. I had a shelter for my heart, a haven for my soul. It was the same faith that sustained my wife during the years that she battled cancer. It was the source of the hope that I had of being reunited with my wife once my time on Earth was over.
The loss of my wife meant that I alone had to teach my son the things that his mother and I wanted to teach him. While Dawson was still in his mother’s womb, I began writing down lessons that I wanted him to learn, lesson about life in general and lessons about Christianity in particular. The loss of Dawson’s mother signaled that it was time for me to formalize what I wanted him to learn from me. It was time to put those lessons in the form of a book.
This is that book. It is not perfect. Still, it is my hope that these messages will be of help to both Dawson and someone besides Dawson, someone else in need of a soul-haven.
Note: The author's wife passed away on July 3, 2010.