The evening of June 24, 2016, Chris was comatose. The nurse told me he may pass that night.
Time ticked on. I had an hour of sleep in the last two days, and our sons had traveled from afar to be with their dad.
“Come on, Chris, we’re so tired. What are you waiting for?” I asked during the wee hours the next morning. It sounded callous, and my words shocked everyone, including myself. Exhaustion had taken over.
The hours continued to pass.
Slowly Chris’ breathing quietly stopped. I looked at the clock. The second hand rolled over the twelve. It was exactly 7:00 a.m. on Saturday, June 25, 2016. Chris was finally at peace.
A year before Chris died, he wrote a blog entry that he asked me to post after he died. I had read it then but hadn’t looked at it since. This particular entry was so important to him that it was first on his list of things for me to do after his death.
Several hours after he had passed, I started to read through the entry before posting it. I made it through the first two sentences.
Saturday morning was always my favorite time to go for a bike ride. I’d be up, dressed, and out the door before the first rays of sunshine began to peek over the horizon.
Running into the kitchen, I asked Chad and Shane, “What time did Daddy usually go on his Saturday morning bike rides?” There was a sense of urgency in my voice.
“He usually liked to be out the door by seven o’clock. Why?”
Tearing up, I realized that’s what Chris was waiting for—his 7:00 a.m. ride.
I hadn’t understood why God prolonged the last day of Chris’ life. God had a perfect plan for His timetable, not ours. It wasn’t a coincidence that Chris passed on Saturday, 6/25, at exactly 7:00 a.m. God knew all along that nothing else would give me more peace about my husband’s passing than knowing he went on that particular day, on that specific date, and at that precise time. His favorite time to ride was 7:00 on Saturday mornings. And on that Saturday, he had the ride of his life to heaven. The date of his death, 6/25, coincides with his favorite Bible verse, Matthew 6:25, which tells us, “Do not worry.” I can’t tell you how many times Chris told me over the years, “You worry too much.”
Even through his death, Chris was still reminding me, “Do not worry. God is in control.”
“For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?
And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’ For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
“So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” — Matthew 6:25–34