I Will Be Here
The morning after our lives caved in
Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor; If either of them falls down,
one can help the other up.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
“I Will Be Here” lyrics by Steven Curtis Chapman
I hadn’t opened my eyes yet, but tears trickled onto my pillow.
Friday, September 27, 2024.
It was 5:30am on the morning after my husband lost his job.
An old familiar song by Steven Curtis Chapman was running through my head.
Tomorrow morning if you wake up
and the sun does not appear,
I, I will be here.
The lyrics combined with my tears, literally salted my freshly wounded heart.
This must be the ‘worse” in ‘for better or worse’, I thought.
We had worked together for over 25 years building a successful bookstore and cafe ministry for our church—the church where we’d discovered Jesus in 1987.
This was the church where we brought our little girl to Sunday School when she was only three—the church where, on my birthday in 1991, the pastor we loved so dearly dedicated our daughter and newborn son to the Lord.
Our Senior pastor, our shepherd, taught us everything we know about the love of Jesus—His compassion, His caring, His covenant with His people and His countless promises to be near us when we are shattered.
My husband needed me now more than ever.
If in the dark we lose sight of love,
Hold my hand and have no fear
Cause I, I will be here.
Our shepherd had retired months earlier.
The new, much younger, Senior pastor had his own plans for the ministries we had poured our lives into.
His plans did not include the two of us.
Without warning, we had been thrust into a new season.
I felt the Lord’s strong presence, but I was frightened and the way was dark, as if we had entered a tunnel with no end in sight.
Tomorrow morning if you wake up,
And the future is unclear,
I, I will be here.
“Are you awake?” my husband softly asked.
Quietly wiping away the tears, I whispered “yes.”
“Oh,” he continued.
There was no groggy rasp in his voice—I could tell he’s been awake for hours.
“Was yesterday a dream?” he asked. “I was hoping it was.”
“No,” I answered. “It happened.”
I will be here and you can cry on my shoulder,
When the mirror tells us we’re older
I will hold you.
“Shall we order McDonalds?” my husband asked.
“At 5:45am?”
“Well, I’m not going back to sleep, are you? he asked.
“I haven’t really been to sleep.”
There was a sweet irony in the predawn breakfast we chose that day.
It had become our habit over the years to have McDonald’s for breakfast on Sundays.
The church held three services and the bookstore was constantly bustling as worshipers came and went from early morning till midday.
Between first and second service, I’d make a fast drive-thru trip so we could refuel.
I loved McDonald’s coffee and always got one despite the fact that we managed the adjoining cafe.
The sun was just coming up when Door Dash arrived.
The familiar comfort of the warm, brown-sugared oatmeal felt so nourishing despite the stark chill of emptiness that was settling into our souls.
It was uncanny.
We ate most of our breakfast in silence and then, while I drank my coffee, my husband talked—about the hurt, the confusion, and our unknown future.
I will be here when you feel like being quiet
When you need to speak your mind,
I will listen and
We’ll be together ‘cause I will be here.
As I listened, I kept wishing that I hadn’t worked with my husband for all those years.
If I had worked elsewhere, I might have been less emotional and more detached, allowing me to minister to him from steadier ground.
Instead, the day before, two pastors who called us "family" laid off my husband and informed me that I would assume his role as store manager.
The wound was shared.
The bullet that pierced my husband's heart passed straight through and lodged in mine.
Even in that moment, there was redemption.
Our two broken hearts had been part of the same threefold cord for forty-one years.
God was with us and would show us how to comfort one another.
I will be true to the promise I have made
To you and to the One who gave you to me
I will be here.
I knew how much that ministry meant to my husband.
I was the only person in the entire universe who knew exactly what he was feeling.
Only God loved him more than I did.
I was more qualified to help him than anyone else.
I reassured him over McDonald’s at the break of a devastating dawn.
I keep reminding him of the endless promises God had already kept and that He isn’t finished with us—not by a longshot.
After forty-one years of marriage, on that morning in late 2024, I asked God to help me face the part of my vows He had graciously spared me from until then—the “worse” in “for better or worse.”
His tender reply was this:
“Dear daughter, before you were born I chose this man for you, and you for him. A threefold cord is not easily broken. Abide in Me. The plans I have for the two of you are for your good. The best is yet to come.”
And just as sure as seasons are made for change
Our lifetime’s are made for years
So, I will be here,
We’ll be together
I will be here.
@Grant Skelton- please accept my apologies, Grant! I inadvertently deleted your comment when I was in the process of replying. You mentioned that you lost your job in September 2025, shortly after you started writing here. My reply talked about the fact that we lost 80% of our income when the church changed our job statuses. The Lord has provided for us and things are settling down a bit now. Hope life is better for you as well. Blessings to you. 😉
Oh my goodness! That is so upsetting -- I'm so sorry! I love that you incorporated that verse about a three-fold cord! What a beautiful verse to lean on! Thank you for sharing!