Last weekend I attended a memorial service. The church was filled with the children, grandchildren, and great grand children of a woman who was known as a gracious and gorgeous Southern belle. The minister told the story of when she met her husband, which happened to be at a garden party at my mother's house. He was a shy college senior, and she was a freshman from Atlanta. 

We heard about their three and a half years of separation while he was overseas in the war, penning over a thousand letters to each other. For them, love was strong enough to wait, to carry on with what life had dealt them. A few weeks after his return they began their seventy year marriage, blessed with eight children in sixteen years.

Her husband had a serious health issue when they were in the throes of raising children. As she was driving to the hospital, she felt a strong arm around her shoulder, and believed God was protecting her. The next Sunday there was a hymn describing how she felt. 

"On earth His arm is thy protection. For thee He makes a home on high.

He is Himself the Resurrection. Who lives in Him shall never die."

She asked that the song be part of her service. Perhaps she could hear a cathedral full of people singing as her beloved again wrapped his arms around her, and that promise came true.