In the fall of 1994, my family experienced a tragedy that many of our friends and most of our neighbors thought we would never recover from. It was in the summer of that year that my husband experienced congestive heart failure. After he had experienced three different episodes and much testing by the doctors, it was determined that an unknown virus had attacked his body leaving his heart functioning at 15% capacity. It was on the morning of September 20th that the doctors entered his room and told him that, in order to survive; he would need a heart transplant. They said there was nothing they could do for him at this time. They were going to discharge him from the hospital that day. He was to go home and remain stress free, and wait for approximately 10 days for an appointment to meet with the transplant team to see if he would be eligible for a transplant.
It was 10 days later when we received a call. However, it was not from the transplant team. It was from a relative who told us that two of our three children had been involved in a serious car accident. The following day, our 9-year-old son went to be with the Lord. Then, some 25 days later our 12- year-old daughter also joined her brother in death.
Within just a few short months, our family had been devastated. I had seen my husband go from being a strong, hard working, self-employed businessman to someone who could hardly make it from the couch to the bed. Two of our three children had been killed. And to top it all off, we were over $400,000 in debt due to medical bills. It is during times like these we begin to ask the question, Does God really love me?
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