Never Alone

by John C. Westervelt

        My children were out of college and in the workplace. Nelda and I had the house to ourselves. I would come home from work to find Nelda at the stove in the kitchen. I had kissed her as I left for work. Now a verbal greeting seemed wise since her hands and mind were busy.

        After eating supper at the table in the kitchen nook, I rinsed the dishes while Nelda served up dessert and coffee. In the den, I put my plate on the oval shelf below the lampshade beside my wingback chair next to the fireplace. Nelda sat her coffee and dessert on the corner table between the couch and love seat. We shared our day.

        After rinsing the cups and plates, I picked up my newspaper and found my seat with its good reading light. Nelda reached for her book. Nelda would lie on the love seat with the lamp on the corner table lighting her book. All was quiet.

        Later as I put the front section of the paper on the floor and picked up the sports page, I stopped and studied Nelda who was engrossed in her reading. I thought, “God, your design of the shape of a woman is magnificent.” Sometimes I would tell Nelda, “You have great legs.” Not losing her place in her book, she would softly say, “Thank you.”

        Soon after Nelda died, I was reading my newspaper. Switching sections of the paper, I looked across the room. All was empty. Loneliness clouded the air. I asked, “Jesus please sit with me.” Being fully man and fully God, He did that and was still available to all his other children. The air cleared.

        Jumping ahead to the Christmas of 2000, I found myself home alone with family separated by icy roads. By now I knew that Jesus would join me for as long as needed, and He did.

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