I just heaved a very heavy sigh. I do not relish relaying sad news. Especially of this nature.
Last night, our house phone rang, which meant it was from within the park. The hour was just a few minutes past nine, so I knew it probably wasn’t good news. Joyce was the voice on the other end solemnly asking for Pastor Don.
He came to the phone.
“Yes, dear.”
“Oh, no.”
He listened to her. He spoke comforting words to her. He prayed with her.
He hung up the phone.
Joyce and Dave’s grandson had gone to pick up his two daughters at the babysitter and when he arrived the youngest, 5 months old, was being given CPR. It wasn’t successful. Their great-granddaughter was… gone.
We sat down, in shock. Tried to watch whatever was on TV, but Don couldn’t stand it. We both felt such a pull to go hug Joyce and Dave, so we got in the truck and drove to the other side of the park. What beautiful spirits of faith and trust they are. We hugged them; cried with them; listened to them talk about their sweet baby and where members of the family are (one of her uncles is in Afghanistan); prayed with them; hugged them some more.
It was no surprise to hear of the faith in God that the parents have. It will sustain them.
The babysitter also needs prayer and love. The couple are members of the parent’s Small Group from church. So we prayed for them, also.
Joyce and Dave will fly home on Monday.
This morning, there she was in Bible Study, determined to live normally and revealing more faith than she realizes. What a witness.
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