Paul Assef

Little did I imagine that barely an hour after I wrote my last post, this giant of a man would die - snap - just like that!
Paul was a man who loved God and lived his life dedicated to serving His God with a big big heart. He was loved by many - his wife, his children, his mother, his sisters and their families, his friends and so many more....
I was on the edge of Paul's life, but whenever I met him, he greeted me as if I was his best friend.  He was so warm, welcoming and gregarious.  He embraced life to the fulness and drew others with him.
Paul's eldest daughter Jess married Simon a year ago amidst much joy and celebration.  This is a photo I took at their wedding and it captures Paul looking with pride at the new couple.  I was Jess' age when I married and a year later my father died, so it seems like I am watching a replay of my own life before my very eyes.
In the hours after his death, I cried out "why?"  and the following day after Paul's death, my devotional book focused on Deuteronomy 29:29 - "The secret things belong to the Lord our God"... I was patiently reminded me that I am not God, and that there is much in life that seems unfathomable and illogical.  A better question to ask perhaps is "do I still trust in God's goodness and believe that He is a great God?"
I have returned to Psalm 121 in the days since and lifted my eyes to the hills - to the Lord - who is there watching me and watching Paul's family and friends as they face life without this man.  There is nothing in life that prepares us for times when tragedies such as this take place, except for knowing that the unexpected can and will happen and usually when we least expect it.  And when it happens to lift our eyes heavenwards.
Two of my children travelled to Moree to attend his funeral.  They are sad.  Their uni friends are sad - they knew and loved Paul deeply and were impressed with how he lived his life.  Paul's children are returning to Sydney soon, as has his sister Rhonda and her husband Phil and their children.  All I can do is walk with each of them through this time of deep deep sadness and grief, and I can pray.
On the day my father died, I received a letter in the mail written by my friend Melinda who lived in the United States.  She had posted it two weeks earlier.  She wrote out Psalm 91:

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.'....
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.....
If you make the Most High your dwelling -
even the Lord, who is my refuge -
then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
Because he loves me, says the Lord,
I will rescue him;
I will protect him,
for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honour him.
With long life will I satisfy him
and show him my salvation."  Psalm 91

My father had not been able to speak much in the final days of his life, but these verses spoke to me and reassured me that my Dad had called upon the Lord in his final hours of life.  I spoke with Dan, Paul's son last week and he told me that knowing that his Dad was in heaven helped him enormously.  This conversation took me back to those early days when I was numb with shock and overcome with grief and reminded me that this truth also carried me.  I look back now and know that the Lord used His angels to carry me through this time that nothing had prepared me to face.  I am praying that those angels will be with Paul's family as they resume life.
The jigsaw of their life has one huge piece missing which will never be replaced.  They will learn to live without him, but there will be daily, constant reminders of him - his laughter, his joy, his protectiveness, his clutter, his love, his smell, his voice, his smile and his touch.