Conformed to His Death and Resurrected by His Life

How My Husband Lived and Died for Christ

by Yveatte Moore

My husband was a bold person. He spoke his mind and made his opinions known. He had a passion for order, truth and morality for his family, for business and for society. He grieved over the immorality of sick and twisted crimes committed against children and the corruption and moral decay of governmental and corporate leadership. His passion for justice and morality lit a fire in him that fueled how he worked, how he loved, how he lived and what he spoke.

One day, he got sick with COVID. I got it, too. As most people we knew had already gotten it and recovered, we expected to be down for a while and then be back at work in a few days. Both of us had just begun working for a new start-up company just weeks before. My husband called his doctor and was prescribed medication, which he was diligent in using properly.

My symptoms were different, as COVID attacks your weak spots. I was able to see about my husband and take care of myself, but then his cough grew worse and my weak spot became weaker and I began hearing sounds of death and fatal sickness. It was like the devil was speaking right into my ear with the words, “renal failure” over and over. At the time, I didn’t even know what that was. We had many prayers going up for us and the support of very dear neighbors who were both nurses, but we were walking in a very dark valley of the shadow of death.

Seeking some form of encouragement while enduring the sickness, I turned on the TV to a pastor’s message. The verse he preached on was Joshua 1:9,

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not be terrified nor dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

Then that last night. If felt like we’d been doing spiritual battle all night long. We were finally able to sleep for a couple of hours, as his cough grew worse and the sounds of death I was hearing grew louder. When we awoke, each of us in chairs across from one another in our living room, we felt worse instead of better. I didn’t know if I could even get up. Then it happened. As my husband raised his head and looked at me, I sensed a rush of wind that came from his body and entered into my kidneys. It felt like life had entered my body, and I immediately felt so much better. I was able to get up and go to him.

I asked him if he was okay. He said he didn’t know, and I knew he needed help. I called our nurse neighbor and he told me to take his oxygen level with the meter he had given me, which I did. He asked me what the number was. It was 32. He told me to hang up and call 911 immediately, that my husband needed oxygen.

It was all a blur after that. Our neighbor rushed over, the EMT’s came in and took him to the ambulance. They saved his life by getting a tube to his lungs immediately. I called my son who came to check on me and then went to the hospital to be with his dad. I was better physically, but was in shock over all that had happened.

From the hospital, my son told me the report that my husband’s lung had collapsed, which I believe happened at the moment I felt the rush of wind and life come into my body. God used my husband’s mortal body to breathe life into my own.

Ephesians 5:25

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her

The weeks that followed were brutal. My husband was adamant that he did not want to be vented. He believed if he went on the vent that he’d never come off. We were encouraged that the medical staff was able to re-inflate his lung, and there were signs of improvement but the COVID virus had attacked his lungs. After about 10 days, the doctor told me he was at the point where COVID patients did not survive. They had tried the drug the FDA had approved for COVID, but it did not help and as we found out later, it made matters worse. They could do nothing else to help him.

By a miraculous answer to prayer, my husband’s best friend knew someone whose spouse was a doctor at a particular hospital, which had been approved by the state to use an experimental drug for COVID patients. With permission and cooperation from his current doctor, my husband was care-flighted to this hospital where over the next few days they tested, approved and implemented this new drug.

His body had been through so much and by this time, his lungs, heart and kidneys were severely weakened. He had been on fentanyl over this whole period of time and just prior to transporting him, they had to vent him to save his life. There were times I felt like I was in a horror movie, watching him endure all he went through. God sustained me and He sustained my son and my daughter. The walk through the shadow of death became very real to us and it took all of our mental, emotional and physical strength to get through.

Deuteronomy 6:5

And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.

As much as I hated seeing my husband suffer, I knew God was in the lead and in control. As much as I wanted my husband well and back home with me, I surrendered him and the entire situation to God. A sweet friend would send me a worship song that I would sing and play over him. I spoke scripture over him constantly.

My husband wanted to get better so he could be a witness to those who worked in the hospital and tell of God’s glory and miraculous works. There were at least two nurses who asked me if he was a Pastor. He left an impression upon the people he was around.

Charles was an inspiration to me. He was brave and strong through the worst of circumstances. He was a warrior and a champion. I believe his willingness, love, and commitment to His Savior was what saved my life.

After the excruciating treatment of the experimental drug and all they had to do to save his life, he was conscious enough to understand the doctors telling him his kidneys were shot, but that he could recover but would need dialysis. As quickly as the doors opened for us to get him to a facility where medical miracles happened that saved his life, the doors began closing just as quickly.

The medical supplies needed to continue his dialysis were gone and it was time for him to enter a rehab facility, but there were no beds available in the facilities recommended.

He had to be transported back to the first hospital to be able to receive dialysis and continue his recovery. A mistake was made upon his arrival and the doctor discovered the tubes were attached incorrectly. Charles began to decline quickly. We believe there was negligence by the doctor on staff who did not immediately do a work-up as to why his patient was declining, but instead he allowed his once-recovered COVID patient to decline like so many before him.

I yelled at the doctor and demanded to know why one hospital saved his life and the day he arrived back at their hospital, he was declining instead of recovering. There were no satisfactory answers. As I sought God the next morning in that quiet hospital room hurt and angry over people’s mistakes that would cost my husband his life, God whispered to me so quietly but so clearly, “They killed my son, too.”

Philippians 3:10-11

that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; ¹¹ if somehow I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.

My husband was conscious enough to understand. Though he couldn’t speak, he mouthed the question, “Am I dying?” Like a dagger to my gut, we had to face the truth that we were soon to be separated by death. He had to tell me goodbye. He told his daughter and his son that he was proud of them and that he loved them. He wouldn’t be able to tell his grandson goodbye, as it would have been traumatic for such a little boy to see his Potch that way. As an only child, Charles had to tell his mother, who had lost her husband just 3 years earlier, goodbye.

Charles told me the first week he was in the hospital that he didn’t think it would end in death, but that if it did, he was ready. He battled and was a witness for Christ all the way through. We don’t understand God’s ways and reasons. I had a thousand questions. My faith and loyalty to God were strong but after my husband was gone, I felt lost.

He was a covering for me. I fell in love with him the summer before my freshman year in high school and married him at eighteen years old. We had basically grown up together. Without him I felt exposed and vulnerable, like someone knocked my feet out from under me. Unsafe and alone.

My kids were a great support but they were young adults with families and lives of their own, and I had to face the fact that he was gone. He had been the main character of my life story since I was fourteen years old, and I was in shock that God had taken him from me, and from his kids.

And then I remembered the last day in the hospital when we were all in the room with Charles and we knew the time was coming. I was sitting on the sofa beside his bed in despair when God revealed to me a small glimpse of what was ahead–a joyous freedom I’d never known. Then I heard Charles communicate with me in my spirit. He called me to come take his hand, which I did. He could not speak but I heard him.

When I took his hand, it was like God was joining us in holy matrimony, presenting us in some way that I didn’t fully understand. He was doing something in the spiritual realm that I couldn’t see. I believe in the resurrection of Christ, and I believed he could bring my husband back.

John 11:25-26

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life; the one who believes in Me will live, even if he dies, ²⁶ and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die.

Just a short time after life support was removed, my husband’s body passed away. It was a grueling painful experience to watch as my daughter threw herself on her dad, begging him not to leave.

After 6 weeks in the hospital, I couldn’t wait to get out of there, away from death and away from sickness. He was gone. We needed to be with each other in a brighter place. I grieved for my husband, for myself, for my kids and for his mother. It felt like we had walked through hell.

The last night I stayed with my husband I walked the hospital hallways and it felt like a place possessed by hell. It was the place where just a few weeks before, I heard the words from the devil himself, “He’s a dead man,” as the nurse gave him the FDA-approved drug for COVID. I ignored the devil’s words and told God that I trusted Him, not knowing if that drug would help or harm him.

It was a spiritual battle every day, and God sustained me with His Spirit, His armor, the love and support of friends and family, their generous prayers and gifts. I believe God sent my husband into the devil’s territory to claim what is rightfully ours in Jesus Christ.

I couldn’t possibly put it all in writing, but there was a time I knew God put His Words in my mouth to encourage and instruct Charles as he made his way through the enemy’s territory. Even with the armor of God on, the blows were so fierce that his flesh eventually gave way until Christ came and took him home. He fought valiantly, and in Christ I believe he won.

Psalm 60:12

Through God we will do valiantly, And it is He who will trample down our enemies.

My husband was conformed to Christ’s death, willing to drink from the cup Jesus drank from. He knows the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings.

As I watched my husband die at the hands of men, I also have a better understanding of God’s suffering. It is a dangerous and miraculous thing to go all the way with Christ. This is where we gain an intimate knowledge of His love.

James 1:12

Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.

One day, we will see the resurrection and the life of those who have gone before us as heaven and earth collide.

Mark 6:10

Your kingdom come.
Your will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven.