After my third husband passed away, I planned to live the
rest of my life alone, but as I have written before, God had other plans.
When He orchestrated the meeting with the man He intended me
to marry, I didn’t understand. This man didn’t believe in attending church. In
fact, his opinion was jaded from dealing with pastors and other
so-called-Christians during his law enforcement career. My previous husbands
were devout men, but God took them from me, and now He wanted me to marry a man
who was opposed to attending church?
God answered my question in an unusual way.
I went to lunch with a friend. She invited a woman whom I had
never met, stating her friend asked to speak with me. She had an answer to my question. "Read 1 Peter: 3:1.”
I frowned. What question was she referring to? I’d not said
a word about anything personal.
Puzzled, I opened my Bible the moment I returned home.
“In like manner also let wives be subject to their husbands:
that if any believe not the word, they may be won without the word, by the
conversation of the wives.”
Even so, I was unwilling to continue in a relationship where I had to hide
my faith, and I shared my faith testimony with my soon to be husband. It shook him
to the core, and he broke off our relationship. I was devastated. How could I
have been so wrong to believe this was the man God wanted me to marry?
Later that evening, my soon to be husband came to the house
and asked to talk. “I love you too much too lose you. Although, I do not share
your faith, I promise to never stand in the way of you practicing your faith
and attending church.”
Deciding to obey God
despite my confusion, I accepted my husband’s proposal. He has been a wonderful
partner and companion, and has never broken his promise to support my faith. In
return, I prayed for his conversion for twenty-two years.
A year ago, to my surprise, my husband announced he would escort
me to church. He was sure some of the men were flirting with me. While flattering he thought I was still attractive enough to draw that kind of attention. I
assured him no one was flirting. He still insisted he’d attend with me. I
agreed, figuring getting him inside a church for any reason was a good start.
For the first year, he brought a book and read during the
service. Then one Sunday, he didn’t bring his book but remained sitting during
the songs of praise. Six months later, he stood when we sang. Earlier this year,
he announced he wanted a Bible. He sat for over an hour researching Bibles with
a retired pastor with whom he had become acquainted at our church. After deciding
on one, he followed through and ordered it.
Last Sunday, my
husband took communion. It was hard not to express my joy. (He'd be embarrassed if I drew attention.) But I couldn't stop a few tears.
Later at home, I privately congratulated him on taking
communion.
His response, “It felt right.”
It took twenty-plus years,
but God fulfilled His promise. But doesn’t He, always?
Thank you, Lord, for giving me the faith to obey when I didn’t
understand and the strength to keep praying even as the years continued to pass
with no hint of answered prayer. Amen.
