“My next-door neighbor, Charlie, was like a father to me. He was a widower and suffered from Parkinson’s, but he always maintained a positive, joyful spirit. We’d sit for hours, talking, laughing and reading his favorite Scripture. Still, I worried about him being alone, especially at night. So without fail at sundown, he’d turn on the small lamp in his bedroom window. It was his little signal to me that he was safe and sound.
“When he passed, I was devastated, and each day the gaping painful hole in my heart felt like it was growing larger and larger. It was especially hard once his house went up for sale—it just made it all the more real that Charlie was gone.
“I tried to lean on my faith, but kept freefalling. I should know he’s happy and in God’s arms, I thought. When he was here with me, it was so easy to believe in Heaven. Why can’t I feel that comfort now? I just need proof somehow!
“Unable to sleep one night, I got up and walked to my window. It faced Charlie’s bedroom, swimming in the dark. I heaved a sigh and began to turn away, but just then the little light flicked on in his window. My breath caught as I blinked with shock. The house was for sale. No one lived there…and yet the light that always told me he was okay and to have no worries glowed as brightly as ever before. In that moment, I felt God’s presence chasing all my doubts away. My soul radiated with joy and silent praises.
“‘Is anything wrong?’ my husband asked groggily as I got back in bed.
“I snuggled against him, my soul finally at peace. ‘Not at all,’ I replied feeling as light as air. ‘In fact, everything is safe and sound.’”
—Norma Hass, 58, Abilene, TX