Lord, bring him home safe

That's the prayer I say most mornings as my husband leaves for work. It is my way of handing him over to the Lord and calming my own anxieties. Lord, bring him home safe.

Of course I have anxiety every time he walks out the door. As a wife, it is one of my greatest fears that he will not come home again. If the weather is bad or he is late coming home, my anxiety is even higher. I am like a nagging hag when the roads are bad. I make sure he lets me know he made it and am not settled until I get that text or call.

When my husband walks in the door at night, it is the happiest moment of any day. Not just because he is home but also because my prayers have been answered.

This summer, we went to our first tractor show. There we met one of my husband's co-workers and his family. We visited while the children took turns sitting on a tractor. A sweet family with precious kids who mimicked the sentiment of everyone we have met so far. We chatted about the adjustment and how different the people are and how crazy it is to come to a small community from a big city.

At my husband's company picnic, we had a chance to visit with this same family again. While it was only a few weeks later, the family asked how we were adapting and again we had a short, but sweet conversation.

A few months later, we prayed for this family as the husband had and was recovering from heart surgery. We discussed how difficult it would be for us if Kent were down for a few months and how emotionally hard it would be to watch him go through such an invasive surgery.

This morning, this husband, father, brother, cousin, friend and co-worker was killed in an auto accident. At 38 years old, he was gone and left was a wife, two children, family and community to grieve this loss.

It is almost unfathomable to imagine another tragedy in this small community. Given what I have seen of these people, I can only guess that they will grieve together in deep ways.

There is a sense of shock and disbelief. I heard it in my husband's voice earlier. My husband has lost co-workers and friends before. Most of the co-workers have been older or suffered illnesses. Most of his friends have been not so close, not family men and he has not been overly moved by the loss.

This is a bit different. This community is different. I have said that before and it is ever so true. When there is a tragedy, everyone either knows the person or a relative. This community is an interwoven tapestry that I have never experienced before moving here and is honestly hard to explain.

My heart is breaking for this man's wife. As husband's drive off to work, no wife ever thinks it will be the last time they see or speak to them.

I said before that tragedy has a way of triggering something inside of us. We honestly mourn alongside those around us. We grieve for widows and parents and children who lose their loved ones. But tragic losses tap at our core until we cannot help but be thankful that it was not our spouse or child or loved one. We tend to hug a little tighter and approach one another with more sincerity.

My husband kisses me every morning before he leaves for work. It is something he started doing at the beginning of our marriage. He had an hour drive through the city to and from work each day. I refused to watch the nightly news until he was safely home. I could not watch because I never wanted to see my husband's truck in one of news feeds.

I will grieve this loss alongside my community and do my best to support my husband as he deals with the loss of a co-worker. I will pray for this family and my heart will ache for them. I will ask God to comfort them in ways we never knew possible.

Yes, I will hug my husband a little tighter when he walks through the door tonight. I will praise God a little louder for answering my prayer. And, I will try to hold onto the truth that God's plan is so much bigger and better than our own, even in tragedy.