A Man Under Authority

I could be tempted to interrogate him during our perpetual, one-sided conversation with, “How could you? What were you thinking?” but I’m not.

I am a little unnerved by the notion that even for a moment I could stoop so low as to blame him for an event so irrevocable. During his life, I had tried to be a better wife than that—to be the woman whose tempered tones would never beg or badger.

Therefore, I am relieved that only once during the past six weeks have these questions popped into my befuddled head in a serious way—and then, only for a moment. It was neither pride nor self-control that stopped the thought mid-stream. Rather it was my absolute certainty that, left to his own devices, he would never have invented a plan that causes so much pain.

He was too overjoyed with this life to depart abruptly for another. His eyes were on the future and his hand on the throttle—worlds left to conquer and trips still to take. He found deep satisfaction in work and with friends. Above all else, the constant thread of his busy agenda was how to spend more time with the family he loved.

I am equally confident that although this plan did not originate with George, he immediately said “Yes” when he was called. Not because he seeking to go, but because in every sphere of life— military, business, church and home—and in his relationship with God, George knew and followed his chain of command.

I know exactly what he said six week ago today, “I too am a man under authority.” (Matt. 8:9)