This morning, three weeks ago, our Amy stepped into the loving arms of God.

I use the word “our” intentionally because, though I was given the extraordinary gift of being her husband for over 30 years, I see now, more than ever, that her life was a gift not only to me, but to all of us.

During last week’s beautiful Celebration of Life service at Centerpoint Church, I saw and felt just how deeply Amy had touched so many of your lives. I’m reminded of her impact through the cards, text messages, voicemails, flowers, gifts, and conversations that continue to come our way. Thank you all so very much for your love and care!

This morning, I sat in the room where Amy passed away three weeks ago. I read Psalm 84 and talked with God:

“How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God… Lord Almighty, my King and my God… Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.” — Psalm 84:1–2, 4

This Psalm was special to Amy, and I was so blessed to discover that it was also the Scripture for the LECTIO365 app this morning—a part of Amy’s and my daily rhythm with God.

Amy had learned something precious: she could be “at home” with God wherever she was. She yearned for His presence, and I could see every day—during the good days and the hard ones—that in her heart, she lived and felt at home with her Savior.

Just a few weeks ago, she was sitting in her usual morning spot on our couch. I sat across from her, and we talked, as we did every day, about whatever was on our hearts.

That morning, she shared how powerfully Psalm 84 had spoken to her. It stirred a deep longing for God, but also the wonderful comfort of what it feels like to be at home with someone—totally open, vulnerable, honest, transparent, and loved.

I shared with her that this same Psalm held an important place in my life. Over 40 years ago, when I was MUCH younger, and seeking God’s direction for my future, I read Psalm 84 every day. During those quiet times, a song began to come together—one I would sing privately to God as I sought to know Him better and grow in trust.

“Sing it to me,” Amy asked. And so I dusted off my vocal cords and did.

And today, this morning, with the sun lighting up the beautiful blue sky around our home, I sing that song again. I remember that we have a living God. A loving God. A God with whom we can be at home, even now, moment by moment. And one day, by His grace, we will be together in His eternal dwelling place—where we will live, and sing, and serve together for time without end.

Thank you, God, for Amy. The lessons from walking alongside her will never come to an end.

And I am blessed.