There’s a light at the end of the tunnel

Published 9:44 am Wednesday, September 16, 2015

The delightfully cool morning urges me to dance about my garden as the butterflies flit from flower to flower drunk with their sweet nectar. Thankfully for the neighbors, I resist the urge to dance outside in my gown and fuzzy slippers, but my heart dances within my chest at the beauty of this day.

Yesterday’s sermon still speaks to my heart as I prepare for the week ahead and its various tasks. I breathe a silent prayer in thanksgiving that God’s word always refreshes my soul and helps me along life’s sometimes-arduous journey. A phone call interrupts my quiet revelry. My precious hubby wanted a moment to share some troubling news of a serious accident involving a coworker. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries, but the frailty of life was called to our attention once more.

A gentle breeze stirs the wind chimes in the back yard as I realize how fortunate I am to know that no matter what happens in this life I have a Savior who is always with me. Those moments when we hear of tragedies occurring, or near misses, it’s unsettling for sure, but I have lived enough life to know that my Savior’s words are treasures. They give me strength when on my own I may have none.

One such time for me was when my husband of 26 years died quite unexpectedly. After my late husband, Glen R., retired from working many years in the oil patch offshore the coast of Louisiana, we both thought that the next few years would be spent traveling and enjoying life. We decided it was time for me to step down from my teaching job so we could ramble around together. After all, we had both worked hard, and the kids were on their own.

Between travels, we thought we might need at least some form of employment since that had always been a big part of our lives. We purchased property in Tennessee and planned to build and run a Christian Bed and Breakfast. Glen R. loved to cook, and I loved to decorate and entertain. It seemed like a perfect plan, but it was not to be. Three short months after leaving our home in Mississippi my dreams were shattered, as was my heart.

During this time of my life I learned the power of prayer and God’s Word in a way I had never known before. I don’t think I would have survived the blow without God’s help. The pain was so intense that I didn’t know how I could go on, but my Savior walked each treacherous step with me. He has done so much for me; how can I remain silent?

It was not my plan to write about this today, but here it is on the page. None of us are beyond the reach of trouble and heartache; it is part of the human condition. My prayer is for someone to gain the strength they need to face life’s inevitable storms with the knowledge that there is indeed light at the end of the tunnel.

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5 — KJV).

Jan Penton Miller can be reached at