Many of us who have lost our spouses have asked God to take them home. Others have considered suicide. I just want to tell you my story. You see, after my husband passed, I too asked God to take me home. I spent many nights questioning why I was allowed to stay here.

After a time, I stopped asking, realizing God had me here for a reason. I may have discovered that reason a few days ago.

I was visiting a furniture store. While I was testing out a sofa(near the front of the store), I noticed a boy of perhaps two or three years of age, wondering around by himself. No parents in sight. The boy headed for the door and stood there for a while. Still no parents. And then he did something that surprised me. He opened the door and headed out into traffic. Now, in this area, people speed through the parking lot without bothering to look. Add to the fact that the boy was small and it was dark.

I got up right away, running to the door before he could get out. I managed to get to him, holding his hand and talking to him until his parents came up.

Back to the months and weeks I prayed for God to take me. If He had honored my request, who would have been at that door to stop this boy from running out into the streets?

Some may say that God would have provided someone else to save the boy. But I say He already did that when He let me live. And I thank Him for it.