I hadn’t planned to go.
That wasn’t God’s plan, however.
Coming home from the grocery store, I made a quick, spontaneous decision. With one simple turn, I was headed toward the cemetery. It was nearing sundown and the air was cooling and gentle.
I drove to the area of our son’s grave and looked briefly at the flowers there. Feeling the familiar sense of loss and grief, I talked to God.
As I maneuvered my vehicle through the road leading out to the highway, I could see a woman at a nearby grave.
I pulled over and got out of the car.
"Did you lose someone recently?" I asked.
"Not recently," came the reply. "Four years ago."
"Same with me," I said. "Four years and four months."
Those words began a dialogue of at least a half an hour or more. Sharing our individual stories of love and grief, faith in God and eternal life created an instant bridge of understanding.
As we talked, she shared that she rarely visited the cemetery during the week. Today was different.
I hadn’t planned to come, either—we both felt that we were somehow meant to talk.
My personal belief is that God intended us to have that encounter—to encourage one another in the Lord.
As I began to drive away, my heart was filled with joy and praise.
God knows our deepest hurts and He never, ever, leaves us alone…