"Two police officers stood on my doorstep. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. What do they want? My husband, Gerry, was at work, and our nine-month-old son, Jared was taking a nap.
Reluctantly, I let the officers inside.The younger officer shifted uncomfortably while the senior officer asked several questions about Gerry and about the car he was driving.
"Mrs. Kelly, your husband's been in an automobile accident," he calmly stated.
My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, and I hesitated before I could speak. "Is he okay?" I managed.
"We're sorry to inform you, but Gerry didn't make it."
"No," I stammered. "There must be some mistake."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kelly, but your husband died in the accident."
My head was swimming. This couldn't possibly be happening. Desperate, I looked around the room for a familiar face. A strangled whisper escaped my lips.
"What do I do? Dear Jesus, I don't know what to do."
In that moment, I knew I had a choice--trust God or reject Him. My husband Gerry and I had recently completed a Bible study of Job at church. Job had a choice when his world fell apart. His wife told him to curse God and die, but he didn't. He chose to trust God, even though he struggled.
"Jesus," I screamed, collapsing to the floor, "please help me!"
This was a test of faith, and I didn't know if I was going to make it, but I knew it would be impossible without Jesus. I had trusted him as my Savior when I was seven years old. He saved me from my sin and promised me a home in heaven. I knew I needed the One who saved me now more than ever."
This is the first half of my real life story entitled, "A Test of Faith" published in God Allows U-Turns for Women in 2006. I cried so hard writing it. I cried so hard reading it out loud. I still cry...
So, is it the whole story? No. For the sake of the book it was condensed or certain information editors didn't believe important was left out. Let me share a few things more about that day. For those of you who have gone through a similar experience, you know it's never cut and dry. Every detail is important.
When the officers first came to the door I thought, "What did I do wrong. Did I run through a stop sign or something?"
My mind knew that was ridiculous but I couldn't or didn't want to believe there was more to it than that.
The other reality was I was scared. I thought maybe these two cops from out of nowhere were not really cops, but imposters there to attack me. There had been a string of rapes in the news about a guy who dressed up as a cop and pulled women over while driving. Now I thought he might be making house calls.
When I saw our neighbor who cuts grass for a living (he was across the street when the officers arrived) peek his head out behind the officers, I let go of that terrifying thought but that brought with it the unthinkable.
Something happened. Something bad happened to someone I love.
The officer first asked if I was married to Gerald Alan Kelly.
"Yes..."
Then he asked if Gerry was driving such and such type of vehicle.
"Yes..."
Then he showed me Gerry's drivers license and asked if this was his license.
"Yes..."
Now at this point I'm thinking, "What in the world is going on? They don't take your license for speeding... And why does this stranger have Gerry's license?"
Then he dropped the bomb. And this is what he said, not how the publishing house made me phrase it.
He said, "I'm sorry to inform you Mrs. Kelly, but your husband is deceased."
When I told him there was some mistake, he insisted there wasn't.
I started to get angry and yelled, "No! You're wrong!"
When they insisted Gerry died in the car accident, I said, "You've made a mistake. It must be the person in the other car."
He replied, "There was no other car. It was a single vehicle accident."
That's when my heart sank and me along with it.
The officers weren't able to find family to come and tell me the news. Evidently they tried and are supposed to, but everyone was out somewhere that day and couldn't be reached.
They also wanted me to give them phone numbers of family members. I couldn't even remember my family's phone numbers. I kept saying, "I don't know... I don't know." I was mad at myself because I couldn't remember. I don't even know who called my family or how they got the numbers other than I had numbers programed into my phone on speed dial.
I've re-lived that day many times. It is one of the things I want to know when I've talked with people who have experienced loss through tragedy. "What happened that day?" My family could tell you their experiences of when and how they found out.
My dad was in his study when he got the call. He said he leaned over and threw up.
My mother-in-law didn't find out until she arrived at my house. I'll never forget her flushed face standing there on my foyer steps (I lived in a bi-level house) doing her best to deny what happened.
For me the day began like any other day. The sun was shining, my son was napping, I had eggplant Parmesan in the oven. (Well, the eggplant wasn't usual. It was one of Gerry's favorites. I hadn't been cooking much since the baby was born so I was very pleased with myself that day...)
I've been learning to "expect the unexpected." Does that mean we have to live in fear? NO.
No matter what happens or how, please know this, Jesus promises to be with you. He will never let you go. Reach out to him in your pain. Trust him in your grief. He will see you through. I tell you that from my heart.
Remember, I am praying for you.
In Jesus' love,
Susan
