During the last few years of college before entering into seminary, we were in a preparatory mode, wanting to pay off bills, and become debt free. Part of that process was scaling down our vehicles, getting away from expensive car payments. We both had vehicles that we loved! Isn’t it funny that we can have relationship with things, and become emotionally attached to them? Bruce drove a Ford Bronco II, and it was such a fun ride! It was in perfect condition, and it also was what he’d driven while he was single. Bruce and I had a sentimental attachment to it. We went on our first date in the Bronco. We had driven all the way to Missouri in that Bronco. His first proposal was in that Bronco. We planned our entire wedding in that Bronco. We’d taken various family trips to the zoo, Schlitterbahn, Aquarena Springs, Wonder Caves and Inner Space Caverns in that Bronco. The memories in that Bronco are endless! I was driving the most wonderful Toyota Previa. It was the most incredible mini-van of its time! Oh, I loved it! The girls were so active in school and had so many friends. We had outings with the youth group and took major road trips in it. All of their friends loved it because it had two electric slide windows in the roof. They loved to stand up and wave out the windows and pretend that they were movie stars waving to their adoring fans! The girls were involved in musicals and plays and gymnastics, cheerleading and choir. The room for changing clothes in the back seats was great. When we went on major road trips, the girls could have their very own seats. Talk about a sanity saver for us! We loved it! Bruce sold his wonderful Bronco and paid cash for a teeny tiny little Ford Festiva, which we affectionately called his “seminary roller skate.”
…In the midst of all this we’d been given a devastating blow. Bob, Bruce’s dad, had been diagnosed with cancer, a brain tumor. Oh, how we grieved this news. His parents, Bob and Donna, were living in Mont Clair, New Jersey. Bob had also been an Episcopal priest for many years. He was stewardship Director for the National Episcopal Church. In light of the diagnosis, they chose to move back home to be closer to family, friends and MD Anderson Hospital. The news was so unexpected. Our hearts were aching. I will never forget this pain. It was so odd for us to think that he could be leaving us. Bruce and I had only been married for such a short time. We were afraid, and yet hopeful, because Bob was always in such good health and he was so young. Bob and Donna began the journey of doctor visits and diagnosis. He had a rather aggressive tumor and during a short amount of time had two major brain surgeries. It was rough on him. Due to the surgery, he lost part of his eyesight; he could still see but explained that it was sort of like seeing through mini-blinds. He experienced the love of our Lord in various ways, through family and friends. He also had some profound and wonderful experiences with angels. He was able to experience their beauty and actually communicate with them in the hospital and in their living room at home. He shared these stories with us and I have never forgotten them. He always said that he wanted to see real angels and he did! I have encouraged Donna to write about them, as I believe they are miraculous moments. I know that we all have the desire to communicate with heavenly angels. We want to know more about the Holy Spirit world. In the wonderful moments that Bob told me of his angel encounters, I felt like I had a special connection to them all my own because of the emotion he had in sharing with me. I know more about them than I ever did before. I experience love and grace in a more meaningful way because of what he shared with me about the angels. I saw the tears filled with awestruck tenderness when he spoke of them. I felt a certain amount of what he felt as he shared his amazing experiences with me. I’m forever grateful that he was able to give me the glimpse.
Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief. Psalm 31:9 NIV