Her Story by Alex Barham

I made it, or so I thought. I finished law school classes one semester early and worked at our local DA’s office until my graduation in May 2014. Then, I moved to Baton Rouge for a bar exam course and studied from morning until night for over two months. I took the 24-hour test over three days, then finally crashed! At that time, that was the hardest thing I had ever experienced in my life.

I knew Micah was the one the day I met him in the first period of our senior year of high school. He adored me, and I adored him. We dated from my senior year until we got engaged on Christmas Eve in my last semester of law school. We were married in the Fall of 2014. 

That same year, when we returned from our honeymoon, I began my first job— as a prosecutor at the local DA’s office. Two years later, in September 2018, we had a baby girl, a blonde, blue-eyed clone of Micah. It was a big adjustment, but it all felt so right. It was the most fun, but it was hard work, so I decided not to return to work for a few months.

When I did return to work, I worked with my father, who had practiced law for 50 years. Trying to keep up with the high learning curve in a different law specialty and learning from a law giant was intense. I loved spending those days with my dad—although the line of work was always stressful. We solved puzzles and ate lunch together every day, and I finally understood what his life was like all those years. I fully understood his sacrifice for my privileged childhood. 

It was Elizabeth’s second birthday when Dad started to complain of a “pulled muscle” in his back. I was suspicious since I knew he didn’t pull a muscle when I was working with him. As it turned out, his prostate cancer, which was removed when I was in law school, had come back. Except this time, it had moved into his bones. At first, the doctors were positive – saying he beat it once, he will beat it again. But after his second chemo treatment, he had a stroke following a full day in court. In December, they said he had three months to live, but instead, he died only one month later. My second baby girl was only two weeks old when he died.

Over the next few years, Micah and I traveled frequently. We loved to get out of town, see new things, and try new foods. Our travels took us to Japan, Thailand, San Miguel De Allende, Mexico, Aspen, Maine, DC (we went half a dozen times because he was on the National Peanut Board), California coastlines, apple orchards of Pennsylvania, and mountains of Arizona. Thank God we accepted every invitation because, little did I know, it was all coming to an end.

On February 6, 2022, we went to church, ate Mexican for lunch, and then went home. I left to take the girls on a playdate and came home early in the evening. We tucked in the girls and prayed. I remember watching Micah pray the Lord’s prayer so seriously (he was always serious when praying, but for some reason, that night, I was soaking it all in). We got in bed, and as I gave him a good night kiss, he went unresponsive. I performed CPR, but he never became conscious again. I made the difficult decision to take Micah off life support, and he died on February 7, 2022. 

A few months before his death, I told him that I felt like we were living in a dream and asked if it was too good to be true. I also told Micah, “If you die first, please let me know you made it?” He said exaggeratedly, “Oh, I will come back as a bald eagle and drop you a rose!” I am still waiting on that bald eagle. However, Micah’s best friends went on a trip to honor him, and they came back, all amazed at this bald eagle staring at them as they canoed down the river. They had no clue what he had told me, but it was a pivotal moment during their trip; they couldn’t wait to tell me.

God also allowed something very special to happen to me. I prayed to the Lord daily, “Please give me a sign that he is so unbelievably happy in Heaven right now. Help me to know that he would not want to come back if he had the chance.”

Well, one night, I had a dream of Micah (more real than any dream I can recall), where he looked at me, grabbed me, and told me, “You are being so brave.” This gave me a lot of comfort because I needed to hear those words. Another unforgettable moment when I felt God speaking directly to me was when I was overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all. Life had shifted from being easy to suddenly hard, and the weight of how this would affect my children felt unbearable. It seemed so unjust, especially because Micah was the good one—humble, obedient, and such a strong, godly example for our kids.

On a particularly hard evening, I turned to the book of Jonah—Micah’s favorite, not just because it’s short, but because he always said it was a perfect summary of the gospel. And as I reached the end, I read:

“Then God said to Jonah, ‘Is it right for you to be angry about the plant?’ And he said, ‘It is right for me to be angry, even to death (Jonah 4:9-10 NKJV)!” (The plant that provided much relief and comfort to Jonah after his travels spreading God’s word). “But the Lord said, ‘You have had pity on the plant for which you have not labored, nor made grow, which came up in a night and perished in a night.”

Then it hit me, and I wept. Micah did not belong to me. He did not belong to our girls. He belonged to God. He was a gift to us.

At the time of Micah’s death, I lived on a farm 30 miles from town with two girls, ages five and three. I hardly worked what would even be considered “part-time” for a family law firm just to keep up my law degree. I was lonely and devastated, and it ached to think about our future. I went from feeling secure and in love for 16 years to feeling like a target was on me. I felt like everyone pitied me, seeing just me and the girls in our church pew or at school functions. I learned not to be the planner I once was and focused on getting through each day. 

Grief is heavy. It’s like a homesick feeling that doesn’t go away. About a year after Micah passed, I started to make big decisions independently. I  moved to Monroe, sold our family plantation, and opened my own law firm. I even started dating someone who brought a combination of hope, light, and guilt. I’ve seen so many blessings over the course of this journey, but, at times, I still find life difficult. I have days when I am consumed with worry and many days when I feel normal again. And yet, through it all, I still believe God is good. I can now see how God carried me through.

The year before Micah passed, I started a plan to help me read the Bible in a year. Looking back, I believe God was preparing me for the suffering my family would face. Even though I have always loved God, prayed to Him, and taught my girls about Him, I still struggled with why bad things happen to innocent people. Reading the Bible from front to back gave me such a vast understanding and helped me to get to know our God more than ever.

This is what I have learned so far:

• Life will bring struggles and crosses to bear, as seen throughout the Bible—even the prophets and apostles, the virgin Mary, and Jesus faced unbelievable suffering.
• God allows us to struggle because it helps us grow spiritually and strengthens our connection with Him.
• Romans 5:3-4 teaches that suffering leads to endurance, character, and ultimately, hope.
• Keeping the faith through trials leads to salvation, and God will one day end all evil.
• The resurrection of Jesus is the ultimate source of hope—God can transform even the worst evil into good, as He did on the cross.

God may not give us the answer that ties everything into a neat and tidy package, but I have enough light to move forward. I find rest in His character; He is all-knowing and all-powerful. Nothing thwarts His plan (Job 42:2), and He will accomplish all He plans for me (Psalm 138:8). The bottom line is that God is always in control!

If I am still breathing and living, you can too.

“…and that joy is (not the absence of suffering) but the presence of God.” -Janet Stuart