There is something inherently beautiful about death — a soul slipping from the physical decay of this world, offering a parting promise of eternity.
I was not raised in the church and struggled with my faith for years. It was not the "miracle of life" in having a child that left me doubtless of God's existence. No, it was the comforting presence that filled my car as I followed the ambulance that carried my husband's body.
There are those who would say it was merely an illusory product of a mind distressed.
However, I recognized it immediately as the presence of God.
Over the next few months, as I prayed fervently for my husband's soul — that he may be forgiven his earthly sins and his soul be allowed to remain in the presence of God — I could often hear his footsteps, catch a whiff of his cologne, or even feel his arms around me. Eternity suddenly stretched before me, offering its sweet promise and this life suddenly seemed incredibly short, yet somehow maddeningly slow.
God reveals a lot in death, if our hearts are open to recognize it.