That night, as I prepared for a sleepless stretch full of torment in my soul, I lost control of my wakefulness, and my eyes drifted into sleep. And God answered. Even in my dream, I felt ashamed that I had not come to Him earlier, that I had turned my back on Wisdom itself in exchange for my attempt to stay in control of this tragedy just weeks before our consummation. He came to me in an angelic vision. I knew it was the voice of the One True God whom our forefathers had served for centuries. He came not with rebuke, not with accusation, but with clarity that led to unexplainable freedom. Freedom to trust, but not just trust this woman I’d staked my life on. A trust in a voice much more authoritative and true.