Wanda Davis-Turner

It seemed like a dream—but it was all too real. I remember walking down the long center aisle at First Church of God in Inglewood, California, the faces of hundreds of people on my right and on my left flashing past me as if in a movie. I remember hands reaching out to touch and hold me; the black limousine; the long ride to Forest Lawn Cemetery; the prayers, the hymns, the folded flag of the United States of America; the silence as the impact of the death of Wayne Sylvester Davis sunk in.

Wayne—my husband and my friend, the father of my children, the pastor of my church, beloved bishop of World Won for Christ Ministries. Now he was resting eternally in the arms of Jesus.

"Oh God, what will I do?" I remember crying. "Somehow in the Spirit You whispered to me that this day was coming. But in my flesh, in my denial, I ignored Your voice and thought, No, just keep believing. The Lord is going to heal Wayne and raise him up as a witness that nothing is too hard for God. Instead, you chose to set Wayne free from sickness and pain by taking him quickly to Yourself.