Jessie Huss
As I drove past my church on a Saturday evening, I noticed an unusual number of cars in the parking lot. Out of what I thought was a rash decision, I quickly swerved into church and walked inside, because hello, I have major FOMO. I walk inside and the first person I see is my sister, Jacqui, sitting at the very back table set up in the gym. Turns out the youth group was celebrating the high school seniors that night. Lauren, my now sister-in-law, was a part of this celebration. I walk in, sit down next to my sister, and look to my right.
How could I have known that those mundane actions that night would lead me to be staring right at my future husband.
A man with curly hair sprouting out of his head, a luscious beard (as he would describe it), and the loudest echo of a voice. After a night of very awkward chatting, he asked for my Snapchat because at 18 that’s just what you do, and we called it a night.
Fast forward a few weeks and we were sitting on a bench in Old Town St. Augustine planning our future wedding. Fast forward a month and we were as close to the heavens as we thought this life would bring us, standing on an insanely beautiful mountain in the Dominican Republic. Fast forward one more month to the circumstances we brought unto ourselves, finding out we were expecting our first child, a son. Before marriage, before engagement, and after just about 4 months of dating. Our first reaction was not out of fear or failure, but out of pure love and honestly, excitement. We were very young, very naïve, and had sinned against our Father. Fast forward 6 months later and we were standing at the end of a beautiful pier, on a beautiful day, proclaiming our forever love. Until death do us part.
It took me a very long time to find peace in my sexual immorality. The moment I met my son Cooper on April 1st, 2017 was like a breath of fresh air. The Lord took what was broken and turned it into a perfect and innocent child.
However, the road of life we swerved onto was not an easy one.
It was one of financial struggle, relationship strains, and major identity crisis for both Christopher and I. Throughout the struggle, we saw such beauty in the family and friends that surrounded us and supported us with abounding love.
Life was good. We were finally able to move into our own town home and move out of my parent’s house. We felt free. Like an actual married couple doing whatever married couples do! Reality smacked us in the face very hard when Christopher lost his job, insurance, and our main source of income. Christopher faced 3 lay offs, worked odd jobs, and faced a season of depression and again that lingering identity crisis.
When things slowed down, he started looking at different possibilities for a career, something he was passionate about, something that was stable, something that could support the family who he felt like he was failing. All Christopher ever wanted to do was support us and love us, because Christopher loved BIG and Christopher loved PASSIONATELY.
“When do you think we should have another baby?” Christopher asked, and the next week I found out we were pregnant with a daughter. “We aren’t ready, we are so broke, we are on Medicaid, we can barely take care of one child!” But again, we were just so excited.
We truly did trust a God who continued to prove his sovereignty to us.
After prayer and pleading, Christopher joined the United States Army. He found what he was passionate about, he found how he could support his family. We said what turned out to be our Earthly goodbye on January 8th when he left for Basic Training. Perfect hugs were given, perfect words were said, and lots of tears were shed, especially for this pregnant and hormonal momma.
On January 22nd I received a call from a hospital in Georgia. “Hello, Mrs. Huss, your husband is here with us, he has gone into cardiac arrest multiple times. He is alive but in critical condition. You need to get here as soon as possible.” Fear, terror, nausea rushed over me like a monsoon. After a brutal 6-hour overnight drive to Georgia we arrived. “I’m coming to you” I texted Chris, assuming he would see it a few days later and be reminded he wasn’t alone. Unfortunately, that was not the hand we were dealt. An hour after my in-laws and I arrived, Christopher Wellington Huss would make his way into heaven. An autopsy would reveal that doctors left strains of the flu and strep untreated, which then revealed an unknown, possibly genetic, heart condition.
Fourteen months later, writing this all out for the first time brings me to my knees in a paralyzing sadness. But even after all of this tragedy, the blessings are still written out so clearly for me. Everything makes so much more sense now. Getting pregnant so young, getting married so young, getting to say a proper goodbye we wouldn’t have had otherwise.
What brings me to my knees more often than the fear, is the faithfulness and consistency of Gods plan for my life. Not one moment was wasted.
Daily tasks like randomly pulling into a church parking lot start to become less random. Being a mom at 22 years old to two wonderfully made children seem less insane when you see that they wouldn’t have been here without the decisions Christopher and I made.
Because of the choice Christopher made to join the Army, he ultimately did get to provide, more than he probably ever imagined. Although I would choose getting Christopher back over ANYTHING, I know his last hopes and dreams were realized.
Don’t get me wrong, even with all of these incredible ways God has revealed himself to me I still get angry, scared, lonely, pretty much any emotion that comes along with being widowed at 21. Like, what?? God, how is this something coming from a good, good Father??
It’s so good. The pieces of Christopher I have every second is so good. The big life moments Christopher got to experience are so good. The rest of my life will be so good because I have experienced a grief and a sorrow that I don’t really want, but without, I would not know how deep and how wide the love of Jesus undoubtedly goes.
If a young 22 year-old can encourage anyone out there, I pray that it can be an encouragement to actively seek Jesus, actively find him daily, even throughout the pain, because He IS there, and He wants you to find him.