Everyone has a story. Everyone IS a story. Each one of us believers could add another book to the Bible; the epistles of Avi, or the Adventures of Hanna. And the story is still ongoing and unfolding. Recently I met one of the publishers of M'et l'et and asked her why they have so many articles from abroad and not so much material written here in Israel. She said that she just didn't have enough people who were willing to sit down and write. Then I realized that I live here and I have a story. So maybe I should try and put it down on paper.

It was a bright, sunny day just before Passover and I was upstairs cleaning out cupboards. Suddenly I heard a kind of explosion, not very loud, and stopped to check that the children were in the house. They were playing fairly happily so I went on with my work. After a while there was a knock on the door. When I opened it I saw two ladies with very white faces looking at me with strange expressions.
"You'd better sit down." They said.
My heart began to beat fast as adrenaline pumped through my system.
"There's been an accident," Mary continued, "and your husband has been badly hurt."
"But he's going to be O.K., isn't he?" I pleaded, trying to calm down. "You've called the ambulance, haven't you?"
"Well actually, he isn't going to be O.K. He's dead!"

I tried to get up and run to wherever he was but my legs went weak and I almost fell. Even when I saw his body I couldn't take it in, yet somehow I knew that he was gone.
His body was there, but he wasn't.
He had taken an electric disk cutter to open a metal barrel. It appeared innocent enough but still contained fumes. As soon as a spark flew from the disk the barrel exploded and Ashi died instantly.

After a time the ambulance took him away and I began to walk the short distance to our home, to face the children. How do you tell two little girls of almost four and six, and a little boy of almost two that their beloved Abba is dead? As I climbed the stairs to our apartment I couldn't help noticing that someone had trodden on a tic and the blood was squashed in patches all over the stairs. I stumbled through to our bedroom and threw myself on the bed when I noticed that one of the kids had taken a red lipstick and smeared it all over the mirror and the bed, but only on Ashi's side. It was just like in a horror movie. That night Charlie, our old black shaggy dog, howled sadly all night long.

People began to arrive, and things had to be arranged. In this country you don't have a minute to waste. Bodies must be buried as soon as possible. So someone had to tell his mother. I still don't know why that 'someone' had to be me. His mum was actually waiting for him to take her shopping for Passover. An older couple accompanied me to her house and we broke the tragic news to her. It was the second of her sons to die, as Ashi's brother had died in the army at the age of nineteen.

When I arrived back home (at the Baptist village) the place was filling up with friends, believers and others. We hugged each other and sat quietly, and someone began to sing a gentle worship song, which actually seemed to be the right thing to do. A friend had taken the children. Luckily she was still breast feeding her own daughter, so my son could "share" in the meantime - he was still nursing.

In bed that night, with the children all asleep beside me, I felt that I was lifted up almost into heaven. I can't explain the peace I experienced, and even a kind of joy. The presence of the Lord has never been more real. I turned to my daily Bible reading and this is what I read.
"This plan of mine is not what you would work out, neither are my thoughts your thoughts. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my thoughts higher than yours." Is. 55:8-10. and also,
"No matter what happens, always be thankful, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus." 1 Thess. 5:18
Did God really mean that? If someone had quoted that verse to me right then, I think I would have hit them; but to have it from the Lord was different. Why? Because that was the first thing I needed to know right then. I needed to know that what had happened wasn't an accident. That God hadn't somehow not been paying attention, and then..."Ooops!" To know that even this was the will of God for me gave me a solid rock to stand on.
If God can make mistakes, then where does that leave us? Totally insecure! So even in the worst circumstances, it actually helps to know that God doesn't merely allow them, but actually plans them. Well meaning friends couldn't understand this and tried to tell me that 'the rain falls on the righteous and the wicked" and that bad things just happen, even to good people. This means that God is not Sovereign. It implies that Satan can sometimes win! Who has the power over life or death? God or Satan? You have to decide. How we answer this question is very important when we are dealing with bereavement, for whatever reason. It's the key to how we will cope afterwards. This verse actually made me feel very secure! I would be interested to know if those of you reading this article agree with me or not. Please write and tell me!
The other verse which the Lord constantly used to strengthen me at that time and throughout the year that followed was from Jer 29:11
"I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope."
A future? A hope? Who would think about a future and a hope when it seemed that life had just ended? Yet this was the word which always gave me strength.
The Lord seemed to say that He knew that this chapter in my life had been a very happy one, but though the chapter was finished, the book of my life had many more chapters yet to be written, and they would be happy too, because He would be in them all.

Now I want to go back a little. Mine is a familiar story in Israel of a British girl who came to volunteer on a kibbutz and fell in love with an Israeli, and also with Israel. Although I had been brought up as a Christian, I had rebelled in my late teens and was doing my own thing. To cut a long story short, as we struggled with the issues of how a Christian and a Jew can be married in Israel, and who should convert to what, we both gave our lives to the Lord and solved the problem by getting married in Cyprus.
After some years working in construction, my husband got a job as a Conference Manager in the Baptist Village, near Petah Tikva.
Our life seemed perfect as the village has acres of clean, green grass and a small swimming pool. We even had a huge open stone fireplace for the winter, and most importantly for us extroverts, lots and lots of people coming in and out. We both enjoyed meeting the families who came to the camps, fellowshipping with believers and sharing our faith with curious Israelis who wanted to know about the village.

A Strange Preparation.

We took part in several courses, one of which was Masterlife. While doing this course, I began to notice that when I spoke to people I was always quoting things that had happened to other people. "Corrie Ten Boom says this. Amy Carmichael did that." And so on. I started to ask myself why I always had to talk about things second hand. What about me? Was my faith all second hand? Hadn't the Lord done anything exciting in my life? Then the Lord took me up on that. Was I ready to pay the price for a first-hand experience? One of our memory verses on the course was this:
Luke 14:26-27
"If any man come to me and hate not his father and mother, wife (husband) or children, brothers and sisters and yes, even his own life; he is not worthy to be my disciple. And whosoever does not bear his own cross and follow me cannot be my disciple."
I clearly remember struggling with that verse. I felt that if I really wanted the 'pearl of great price', I would indeed have to pay a great price. What is the pearl? Knowing God more closely. Would I be willing to give up anything He asked of me? Literally on my knees, I struggled within my soul. "Just don't let anything happen to one of the children. Please, not my husband. Not my family." This was the only time in my life I had experienced anything like this, but I finally gave in. "Do whatever You want. I give them all to You on open hands." I agreed.
Looking back on that, it seems to me that the Lord wanted to have my permission before He acted. I noticed other things too. In February Ashi had had his thirty third birthday. When friends asked him how old he would be, he answered, "The same age Jesus was when He died!" The first time I heard him say that, my ears just pricked up. The second time this conversation was repeated with someone else, I really didn't like his answer. Then, at our house group he said the same thing to all of them and I told him that I really didn't like his answer. Did he wish the same thing would happen to him? Anyway, I added, at least Jesus had until Pessach! Ashi went to be with the Lord several days before Pessach.
He also stopped smoking, as if he wanted to be purified. How much does our spirit know, that we are consciously unaware of. He suddenly got terrible head-aches as if from nowhere, just on the side of the head where he was hit.

Another strange thing was a picture which Liat drew about two weeks before. She was nearly seven and one morning she picked up a piece of paper and drew a picture on it. Then she told me what it was. She had drawn our family of five standing in a circle on the grass by a big palm tree which stands at the centre of the village. Then there was a line representing the sky, and above this was a house made of fluffy clouds and stars. Jesus was standing beside the house. (Matt 14) I don't remember having told her about this, but she just drew it and then went off to play. Later on we looked together at that picture and it helped them to understand what had happened. Ashi had gone to live in that house and he would wait for us there. Maybe he was busy building some more houses.
Ever since then, when I have known someone die unexpectedly, I have heard many similar stories of things the person has said or done close to the time of death, almost as if they had a premonition. I believe that the Lord graciously prepares us for our own death, although we are completely unaware of it. But that is just my theory. Once again, your comments are welcome!

Life Goes On.
In the days immediately following Ashi's death, the church rallied round and provided meals for weeks. On the day of his death I had asked Ashi how much money we had, and he'd cheerfully replied that we had exactly 30 sheqels! However by the end of the week he would have been astonished to know that we had 18,000 sheqels! A huge amount of money then, and I could have made that last for a year.
It was fascinating to see how the Lord's Body really did function and I was so blessed by each person who was involved. Some gave disposable diapers, some gave prophecies which I hung on to as a drowning man hangs of to a life belt.
Some simply picked up the phone in the evenings to chat. This was such an incredible help after I'd put the children to bed and had another evening alone. It was always someone else, often people I'd barely had contact with before. It seemed the Lord had organized a phone rota from heaven. After each call I knew the Lord saw my need for company and met it. It was such a thrill to realize that he cared so much. Then one morning I woke up feeling very low. This wasn't at all like me as I had been very positive and even I couldn't understand why I felt so upbeat and optimistic most of the time. A friend rang from Haifa at 7:30 a.m., and told me that the Lord had told her to ring and pray especially for me. I had just put the phone down when it rang again with a friend from Jerusalem who said the same thing. A few minutes later a third person rang and she said exactly the same thing. All three of them, from three different cities, had been woken up early and told to pray for me!!! By the time I had the third call I was so overcome with gratitude, joy and amazement that all thoughts of depression had flown far away.
Also, there was a friend who I'd only met once or twice in Beit Emmanuel years before. Suddenly she was burdened with grief and began to fast and pray for me. For six weeks she prayed and fasted (losing several kilos herself) so that it looked as though she was the one who had lost a husband, and not me! I will not try to explain that, but I only know that she was carrying a burden and I was able to be free. There are many mysteries in the spiritual kingdom that I don't pretend to understand, but the Lord has a wonderful way of helping us in our times of trouble.
I never felt closer to Him than during that first year. Of course there were times when my heart broke, especially when I looked at my children who would never know what a funny, kind, talented person their father was. Of course I cried myself to sleep sometimes. But the Lord comforted me, and wrapped me in His arms, and I was able to experience all the truth of Isaiah 61 and sang those verses whenever I was down. I sang them in faith.
He gives me beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness,
that I might be a tree of righteousness
the planting of His hand and He might be glorified.

Six months had passed since Ashi went to be with the Lord, and I knew we had to leave the Baptist Village. A good friend had strongly suggested to me that I go to Beit Beryl and take a one year course in order to become an English teacher, since I already had a teaching qualification. That seemed crazy! Where would I get the money? What about the children? But one day I got a phone call from a social worker who had me on her list and had only then got round to phoning me. She invited me for a meeting and told me about my rights. I could be re-trained for anything within reason. So I told her about Beit Beryl and she immediately agreed, and also gave me a living allowance, travel etc. so I wouldn't have to work during that year of training!!
At the very end of August a lady rang up to ask if I would like to live in a small apartment she had bought for her daughter who was still in the States! Without us even looking, the Lord had provided us with an apartment at a very reasonable rent! This fulfilled a prophetic word I'd been given earlier, "The Lord has already prepared a place for you." A second prophetic word I was given tied in with this: "As your days; so shall your leisurely walk be." As I meditated on that one, I had a picture of a little girl simply walking along without a care in the world, because her Father would take care of everything. Childlike trust. I had never been the receiver of prophetic words before so this was new, but very helpful, and the Holy Spirit kept bringing these words to my mind whenever I was about to get overwhelmed. I really needed that strength for the trauma of leaving the safety of the Village and setting out on our new adventure. This adventure included the war with Saddam, gas masks and scud missiles! Altogether quite a year.

I came to identify strongly with Ruth at this time and the Lord told me to be a faithful daughter-in-law to my Naomi. So I kept in close contact with my mother-in-law, knowing that her grief and loss was equal or greater than mine. In time I met my "Boaz" and remarried. He became a father to my three children and we had two more sons, in addition to three daughters from his previous marriage! So, like Job, I had more than before. Of course there is no "and they lived happily ever after" in real life. There are lots of difficulties and tension and arguments when you try to 'blend' two families. However if you love each other enough, you somehow can make it.
Through the trials of their childhood, the Lord was faithful to my children and today they have a very strong faith perhaps because of all they went through.
Truly God's word to me in the early days, ‘I know the plans I have for you says the Lord...' (Jer 29:11) have been fulfilled. This word is for every one of us.

Written by Helen Mygdal