A drunk driver killing my pregnant wife

We’d been married almost a year. She was seven months pregnant with our little girl, Emily. My life was shattered like the glass scattered over the road when a drunk driver hit us head on. I lived… they didn’t. I was alone and the loneliness surrounded me like a fog.

Where was God that deadly day when a young husband and soon-to-be father watched his whole life get wrapped up in a body bag and wheeled away on a gurney? He was inside weeping through my tears. He was touched by the tragedy as if it were His own. He was holding the darkness and carrying the grief and softly whispering, “I’m here. You’re not alone.”

I didn’t hear the whisper that day. In fact, it would be years before my deafness was healed and I recognized the unfamiliar voice inside. But now it’s become a shout that I must proclaim to everyone.

You’re not alone.