Looking back over our 45 years of marriage, I can see more clearly that our meeting was neither luck nor coincidence. God was preparing each of us for the other long before we met.
When I was 38 years old, I was content to remain single. Then, in God’s providence, He brought Naomi into my life. She was 29.
When I asked Naomi to marry me, her first response—before saying yes—was, “I have PKD—polycystic kidney disease.”
At the time, I did not fully understand PKD or what it might eventually mean for our lives. But it made no difference in my love for Naomi or my commitment to marry her.
Looking back over the 45 years God gave us together, I now see the significance of that moment much more clearly.
“All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.”
—Psalm 139:16
Before Naomi and I were born, God knew the entire course of our lives. He knew about Naomi’s calling as a nurse, her years of compassionate service, her PKD, the dialysis that would eventually become necessary, and the circumstances surrounding her final days.
God also knew me. He knew my faith, personality, strengths, weaknesses, and capacity for commitment. He knew the kind of husband and Care Partner Naomi would eventually need beside her.
God’s Provision for One Another
I have sometimes thought that perhaps God brought Naomi into my life primarily because she needed someone who would be completely committed to her and her welfare, no matter what happened.
There may be truth in that, but God’s providence worked in both directions.
Naomi needed my commitment, but I also needed her. God gave me her love, faith, wisdom, companionship, encouragement, and joyful spirit. She brought tremendous happiness and meaning into my life.
We became God’s provision for one another.
“A person’s heart plans his way, but the Lord determines his steps.”
—Proverbs 16:9
Neither of us could see the road ahead when we married. God could.
More Than Caregiving
As Naomi’s PKD progressed and dialysis became necessary, we did not see ourselves simply as caregiver and patient. We were Care Partners.
We were in it together.
The dialysis training was our training. The treatments, early mornings, waiting rooms, prayers, coffee stops, medical decisions, and uncertain days became part of our shared life.
These things were not interruptions to our marriage. They became sacred expressions of our marriage vows and of the love God had called us to share.
“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”
—Galatians 6:2
I could not cure Naomi’s PKD or prevent her death. Only Jesus could save her and bring her safely into His presence. But God allowed me to be her husband, companion, advocate, protector, encourager, and Care Partner.
During her final month, my responsibility was not to control the outcome. It was to remain beside her, care for her comfort and dignity, and accompany her as far as one human being could go.
Then, at the appointed time, I had to release her into the hands of the Lord who had held both of us throughout our marriage.
Naomi entered the presence of Jesus on November 8, 2024.
Understanding What I Lost
Now, about 20 months after Naomi’s physical departure, I am beginning to understand more fully what I lost.
Perhaps the trauma was partly hidden at first. There were decisions to make, arrangements to complete, responsibilities to fulfill, and a new life I somehow had to begin living.
As time passes, however, my heart is recognizing the magnitude of the loss. I did not merely lose someone I loved. I lost the person with whom my daily life, identity, faith, memories, service, and future had been intertwined for 45 years.
Scripture says that husband and wife become “one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). It should not surprise me, then, that this separation sometimes feels as though part of me has been torn away.
My grief becoming clearer does not mean I am going backward or that my faith is becoming weaker. Jesus Himself wept at the grave of Lazarus.
“Jesus wept.”
—John 11:35
Christ Followers still grieve. But because of Jesus, we do not grieve without hope.
Wishing for a Do-Over
Sometimes I wish there could be a do-over.
I would love Naomi more deliberately. I would listen more carefully, spend more time with her, and give more attention to what was truly important.
Yet I must not allow what I understand today to become an unfair judgment against the husband I was then.
I was not a perfect husband, but I loved Naomi. I stayed. I kept my promises. I shared her burdens. I learned dialysis. I prayed with her and for her. I sought her comfort and welfare. I remained beside her through her final days.
Naomi did not need a perfect husband. She needed a faithful one—and, by God’s grace, I was there.
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”
—1 Corinthians 13:7–8
My wish for a do-over is partly the language of grief and love. Love looks backward and sees ways it wishes it had expressed itself more completely. I can acknowledge my regrets while also thanking God for the love that was genuinely given and received throughout our marriage.
Providence Has Not Ended
God’s providence did not end when Naomi went home to Jesus.
The same Lord who brought us together and carried us through 45 years of marriage is still guiding me today.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.”
—Proverbs 3:5–6
Being without Naomi does not mean I am without God. Moving forward does not mean leaving her behind. It means carrying forward the love, faith, wisdom, and calling God placed within me through our life together.
Naomi’s influence will always be part of who I am.
Most importantly, our separation is not permanent. Naomi is whole, healed, and in the presence of Jesus.
“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.”
—John 11:25
The God who providentially brought Naomi and me together will faithfully carry me through the remaining days He has ordained for me—until, through Christ, we meet again.
What About Your Story?
My story is the illustration, but Jesus Christ is the focus. The same Jesus who sustained Naomi and me through 45 years of marriage is the One who now sustains me in grief. He is also present in your story—even in circumstances you may not yet understand.
Perhaps God has placed someone in your life whom He is calling you to love, encourage, or faithfully walk beside. Perhaps, like me, you can look back and recognize that the Lord was arranging far more than you understood at the time.
Consider these questions:
- Looking back over your life, where can you now recognize God’s providence in bringing a particular person or circumstance into your story?
- How might Jesus be calling you to trust Him and faithfully love or serve someone He has placed in your life today?
Our stories are important, but they are not ultimately about us. They are part of God’s greater story—a story of grace, redemption, faithful love, and eternal hope through Jesus Christ.
A Prayer
Lord, thank You for knowing Naomi and me before either of us was born. Thank You for directing our steps and bringing us together in Your providence.
Thank You for the 45 years You gave us and for allowing us to love, serve, pray, and walk through life as Care Partners. Thank You for giving Naomi to me as my wife, companion, friend, and sister in Christ.
When I wish for a do-over, remind me of the love that was genuinely given and received. Forgive me for the times I failed to love perfectly, but also protect me from judging our entire marriage through the pain and clearer vision I have today.
Be near to me as I more fully comprehend what I have lost. Remind me that deeper grief does not mean weaker faith. Help me grieve with hope, knowing that Naomi is whole and safely in the presence of Jesus.
Show me how to carry forward what You entrusted to me through her life. Continue directing my steps until the day when, through Christ, we meet again in Your presence.
In Jesus’s name, amen.
