Her Prayers Became My Awakening: An Interview
by C D Swanson~
Introduction: Glen is a retired banker living in the quiet, pine‑lined hills of central Vermont. His home sits on a ridge where the seasons move slowly, and the mornings carry a kind of sacred stillness. He spends his days walking wooded trails, tending a small garden, and learning how to live with both grief and grace. Beneath his calm exterior is a man shaped by profound loss, unexpected revelation, and a spiritual awakening he never imagined. This is his story — one marked by anger, surrender, and the God who met him in the ruins of his heartbreak.
CD: Glen, thank you for agreeing to this interview. I know this isn’t an easy story to revisit.
GLEN: You’re welcome. Talking about her still hurts, but it also honors what God did through her. And I promised myself — and the Lord — that I would share it when asked.
CD: Tell me about your wife. What was she like?
GLEN: Her name was Marissa. She was gentle, steady, and full of a quiet faith that didn’t need to announce itself. She prayed constantly — not loudly, not dramatically — just faithfully. Especially for me. At night she’d rest her hand on my arm and whisper, “Lord, draw him to You.” I’d pretend to be asleep. She always knew I wasn’t. Scripture says in 1 Peter 3:1 (KJV): “If any obey not the word, they also may without the word be won by the conversation of the wives.” That was her. She lived the Gospel in front of me long before I ever believed it.
CD: You weren’t a believer at that time?
GLEN: Not even close. I was a banker — numbers, logic, what I could see and touch. Faith felt unnecessary.
I told her once, “You’re wasting your prayers on me.”
She just smiled and said, “God never wastes anything.” I didn’t understand that until everything fell apart.
CD: What happened when she became ill?
GLEN: It was sudden. Too sudden. One week she was humming hymns while planting tomatoes. The next week she was in a hospital bed, fading faster than I could accept.
And I was angry. Angry at the doctors. Angry at the world. Angry at God — a God I didn’t even believe in.
I kept thinking, why her? Why the one who believes? Why the one who prays? Why not me?
But she never questioned God. Not once.
She held my hand and whispered, “Glen, if God takes me home, He’s still good. And He will still come for you.”
I didn’t want to hear that. I wanted her healed. I wanted our life back. But she kept praying — even when she could barely speak.
CD: Oh, Glen, that had to be so difficult. Can you share her final words to you?
GLEN: She squeezed my hand — weak, but intentional — and said, “Don’t run from Him anymore. My prayers don’t end here.”
Then she smiled. And she was gone. Just like that! One moment in time, she was gone. My world collapsed in that moment. I felt like I died with her. I wanted to be with her. I just wanted to die with her.
CD: I’m so sorry. Glen -After she passed, what was life like for you?
GLEN: I was furious. Furious at God. Furious at life. Furious at the unfairness of it all.
I walked around the house like a storm. I slammed doors. I cursed at the ceiling. I told God — the God I claimed didn’t exist — that He had no right to take her. I smelled her perfume. I rummaged through her clothes, which still had her scent on them. I hugged her pillow. And I just was miserable, aching and lonely for her.
The house felt too quiet. Too empty. Her Bible was still open on the kitchen table. Her handwriting filled the margins. Her sweater was still draped over the chair. Everything felt frozen in time.
I didn’t want comfort. I wanted answers. I wanted her back.
CD: (We paused here during this disclosure. It was pretty intense.) Glen…what was the one defining moment — if any — that brought you to your knees?
GLEN: There was a moment. A moment that broke me wide open. I was in our bedroom, pacing, yelling, grieving, raging — all of it tangled together. I felt like I was losing my mind. I grabbed her pillow, held it to my chest, and I just collapsed onto the floor.
And in that moment — that raw, ugly, desperate moment — something inside me shattered. All the anger. All the pride. All the disbelief. It all cracked open.
I cried out, “God… if You’re real, I need You. I can’t do this alone.”
And He met me. Not with thunder. Not with visions. But with a breaking — a holy breaking — that felt like the first breath after drowning. That was when I found the note. It was tucked away in her Bible in the back of the book. I lifted the Bible off the table, and it trickled down to the ground.
In her beautiful handwriting this is what the note said, I’ll read it to you.
Lord Jesus,If my time on this earth is shorter than we hoped, then let my last gift be this:Please bring Glen to You.Open his heart.Break through his walls.Let him know the love I have prayed over him all these years was only a shadow of the love You have for him.Don’t let him walk this life alone.Draw him, hold him, save him.And if I cannot stay, then let my prayers stay in my place.Amen.”
That was the defining moment. The moment I fell to my knees. The moment everything changed. God was there all the time with me. And He healed me and gave me a new spirit.
Scripture says in Psalm 34:18: “The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.”
I didn’t know that verse then. But I lived it.
CD: Oh my gosh Glen. Wow- what an amazing testimony. I am overwhelmed by your story. What did that moment mean for your faith?
GLEN: It was the beginning. The beginning of surrender. The beginning of healing. The beginning of God taking the pieces of my life and showing me, He had been there all along.
Her prayers didn’t die with her. They carried me straight to the feet of God.
CD: What does your faith look like now?
GLEN: I’m still learning. Still grieving. Still healing. But I’m not alone anymore.
I read her Bible now. I pray the way she prayed — simple, honest, steady. And every day I thank God that He answered her prayers… even after she was gone.
People say she didn’t live to see me saved. But I believe she did. I believe God let her see the fruit of every prayer she ever whispered, and had a front row seat to witness it.
CD: If Marissa could hear you now, what would you say?
GLEN: I’d say, “You were right. God came for me. Your prayers worked. And I’ll see you again my beauty.”
CD: What do you want others to take from your story?
GLEN: Don’t underestimate the power of a praying wife. Don’t underestimate what God can do through heartbreak. And don’t wait until you lose everything to find Him. If God can reach a man like me — stubborn, angry, closed off — He can reach anyone.
Her prayers outlived her. And I’m the evidence.
CD: Glen. My gosh – thank you for sharing your testimony. And thank you for sharing your journey and heartache, which now is filled with peace. Thank you for this interview.
GLEN: You are so welcome. I wanted the world to know about my beautiful wife, and for others who have a non-believing spouse, that they should never give up. God hears your prayers. He really does. He heard my wife. And look at me now! Just look at me now!
CD: Yes, look at you now! Amen. Nothing is impossible with God.
