I know I can confidently expect the Lord to be who he is even when I can’t confidently expect much else in life.
When Louie and Johnna Gaunch were in their early thirties with three young children, Louie suffered a heart attack, underwent quadruple bypass surgery, and learned that he would deal with severe heart disease for the remainder of his life. It was a major turning point for their family. Louie and Johnna had been struggling in their marriage, and God used this event to reorient them to what was important. They renewed their vows, reexamined their lives, and were blessed with many more years together—raising their children and seeing them move into adulthood.
Louie and Johnna had lived in West Virginia their entire lives. However, when they became empty nesters, they decided it was time to move since their children were all living out of state. God moved in their hearts to explore the Upstate of South Carolina where their oldest daughter was living. She and her husband attended Grace and were expecting their first child at the time. When Louie and Johnna visited, they fell in love with the Anderson area. They visited Grace’s Anderson campus, made some connections with staff, and began their plans to move.
Everything fell into place—they found a lot to build on, Louie was interviewing for jobs, and they were in the process of packing their belongings. In the midst of all these moving parts, on September 27, 2021, Louie had a major heart attack and died almost immediately. The following days and weeks were a blur for Johnna as she grieved and tried to process what was happening. However, she was very quickly faced with a decision. And in her heart, Johnna knew that God was calling her to do the hard thing, leave behind all that was familiar, and move to Anderson by herself.
I had to lean on God for everything. It was beyond me. I’m not courageous, I’m not talkative, I’m not a solo sort of person—and I had to be all that. My husband’s favorite passage was Joshua 1:5-7, and God has taught me so much about what it means to be courageous. It’s been our family’s anthem through all of this.
Even though God was clearly working through Johnna’s move, it was still a difficult transition. She moved into an apartment while her house was being built, and because she worked from home, she was often alone for long periods of time. However, she found support and community at church.
I sat in the back corner of the worship center week after week, month after month, and cried through the service. But I never sat there alone. I’ve been embraced by the members of the Anderson campus. Some Sundays I couldn’t talk, but they didn’t care. They created a hedge of protection around me, and I knew people were praying for me even though I didn’t ask them to.
Over time, those connections have grown into friendships, mentoring relationships, and true community. Johnna went through an Ezer study and was embraced by the women in her group. Although they were in different seasons of life and dealing with different struggles, they were all trying to find their identity. This was a major part of Johnna’s growth as she had to relearn who she was without her husband. She also joined a community group, even though it was difficult to attend alone, and found people who were willing to be known and who wanted to know her.
It’s been a little over a year since Louie’s death, and Johnna is still processing, grieving, and walking with her children through their own grief. Even though the rest of her life won’t look like she planned, she knows God is calling her to keep loving her family and serving others. More than anything, she is thankful to know God and experience his presence so clearly through her suffering.
We’ve cried and we’ve laughed, it’s been great and it’s been terrible, and I knew those things could coexist, but it’s another thing to experience it. And when I was in the midst of grief, I experienced God. It wasn’t words on a page. It wasn’t theology. I experienced his presence more than anything else.
