It was Tuesday, March 9, 1993—a bright and beautiful spring-like day with daffodils blooming and trees leafing out. My heart, however, was heavy, filled with a sense of apprehension. David, my beloved husband of nine years, had not returned home. On this day, he was declared a missing person, nationwide.

David suffered from a condition called Serotonin Deficiency, a chemical imbalance which caused him to suffer with bouts of depression. Recently his depression had gotten worse. A close family member had died, he had lost his job, and his psychiatrist had relocated to another state.

Alone with God

The night of David’s disappearance, I paced the floor and looked out the front window and the window at the back garage again and again. I went to bed, but sleep evaded me. I sang hymns and tried to focus my mind on a book I was reading. But I found comfort only in the Lord and in His promises, and most of all in prayer. That night the Lord gave me this verse, For God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). It helped me know the Lord would take away my fears, anxieties, and uncertainties.

The following four days I was alone, feeling immensely concerned yet still hopeful. I went to work and every time I returned home, I prayed that David’s white car would be parked in the garage and that he would be waiting for me. But there was no David, only an empty house. I was completely dependent on the Lord.

Sustained by Hope

On Saturday, March 13, my mom arrived in Dallas from the Philippines via California. We had planned her visit before David’s disappearance, and now our reunion was bittersweet. But the Lord knew I would need my mother, so His timing was perfect. The day of Mom’s arrival the Lord gave me a verse to claim, For His anger is but for a moment. His favor is for life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning (Psalm 30:5). This verse gave me hope because it made me think that David was alive and perhaps was trying to find a job somewhere—and there would once again be joy in our home. Every night my mother and I knelt down and prayed together, hoping.

The second week the Lord gave me another verse, I will preserve his life, I will keep him alive and he will be blessed upon the earth, and he will not be given to the will of his enemies (Psalm 41:2). I virtually clung to the part of the verse that said, “I will keep him alive.” Our God is so good. He gave me hope for two weeks just to keep me going.

A Focus on Death

The third week the Lord gave me another verse, Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints (Psalm 116:15). When I read this verse, I thought it was just a coincidence because I had been reading the Psalms chapter by chapter since David’s disappearance. But later I opened the hymnal to sing, and my eyes fell on the hymn “It is Well with My Soul.” Then I turned the page and read the words to the hymn “He Hideth My Soul.” The words of the last stanza “When clothed in His brightness, transported I rise to meet Him in clouds of the sky...”convinced me that God was focusing my attention on death. In my heart I knew that God was telling me that David was gone but the other part of me did not want to believe it. As the week unfolded, my mom started praying that someone would lead us to David’s body.

The Body Found

On Wednesday, April 7, the detective assigned to David’s case knocked at our door. He told me that David’s car was found in Atoka, Oklahoma, on March 13. However, because the report sent to the local police had been misplaced, I was not informed. My temptation was to feel anger towards the local police department, but the Holy Spirit reminded me that God was still in control. Peace enveloped my heart and I desired to place everything into God’s hands.

On Thursday, I got out of bed with a sense of dread and heaviness in my heart. Together with my three pastors, my father-in-law, and our detective, we drove to Atoka to look for David. A part of me was still hoping and the other part knew something was terribly wrong. Along the way, I kept looking for David’s car, still hoping to see him alive. There was no David until we reached the place where the car was found. The sheriff and his four deputies went with us to a secluded part of Atoka. In just a short time, the sheriff found David’s body, intact but decomposing. He had killed himself.

My Soul at Peace

At this point, I did not ask the Lord why this had happened because I knew He was in control. However, my immediate response was anger towards David. I cried out “Why, David, why?” We had promised to grow old together. Now he had left me all alone. I walked to an open field and fell down, crying at the top of my lungs, “God, give me strength. God, give me strength!” After a while my pastor assisted me to my feet, and an incredible peace came over me. My heavy burden of sorrow was lifted.

David was buried the day before Easter Sunday. He had been scheduled to sing the song “Heaven” at our church service on Easter. But he was actually already in heaven, singing his song before the Lord! Since David’s death, the Lord has become my husband, as Isaiah 54:5 says, The Lord, your Maker, will be your husband. God has also provided me a wonderful mother, loving parents-in-law and grandparents-in-law, and many friends who love and pray for me.

Something Beautiful, Something Good

Since David’s death, the Lord has also given me a vision and a ministry. I asked God what I could do for Him and the community. Then one Sunday in October I was driving in downtown Dallas passing a bridge when God directed me to look to my left side. I saw more than 100 homeless men and women living under the Canton Bridge with cardboard boxes as their homes and trash bags as their windows. I had driven in that area for ten years but had never noticed this before. My first thought was, “Oh, these people are bums, and could be violent or crazy. Then the Holy Spirit convicted me of my lack of compassion toward the homeless. God seemed to put just one word in my mind—blankets!

So a ministry to the homeless was birthed, which later took the name “Operation Care.” For this ministry, I personally claimed Romans 8:28, And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. As I think about David’s death, I know Satan meant it for evil, but the Lord has used it for good in my life. Through the ministry of Operation Care, new life has been brought to many, and I have been given a new purpose in life.

The great preacher Charles Spurgeon said, “Tried Christians grow rich by our losses, rise by our falls, live by dying and become full by being emptied.” I would never trade my experience with anyone, and I can truly say I am thankful for my sorrows as well as my joys. God feels our pain and shares our sorrow, and sometimes out of our deepest pain, something of beauty is birthed.

Susie Yanson-Jennings was born in Philippines in 1957, came to America in 1982, got married in 1984 and was widowed in 1993. Ms. Jennings has worked as a Nurse Supervisor at Baylor University Medical Center for 25 years. She founded Operation Care-Dallas, Inc., in 1993. The ministry started with 100 blankets distributed under Canton Bridge in downtown Dallas, to 500, then 1000. It has continued to grow and for the last four years Operation Care has given the biggest Christmas party for homeless people in the country—held each year at the Dallas Convention Center.