The Faithfulness of God in Grief and Beyond

My father-in-law of over 38 years passed away recently. It was a devastating loss. He was 91 years old and was a minister for over 70 years, though I would argue that he was a minister for 91 years and almost 4 months. (I'll tell you that story later.)

He was a true disciple and I learned a lot from him, listening to the stories of a man of God who was called at the age of 10. He was faithful to God and God was faithful to him, even to the very last moment.

A Cracked Plate

His loss is hitting me especially hard today, exactly one week after he left us. The pain of his loss is mixed with the grief still fermenting in my heart over the loss of my own father over 10 years ago. I told someone today that we are all cracked plates, but on days like today, I feel more cracked than usual and I want to say to everyone, "put me down easy," as Nanny says to Janie in Their Eyes Were Watching God. Still, cracked as I am, I know that God is faithful.

As a Christian, I have never doubted that faithfulness…but I never fully understood it.

As a Christian and a minister, I have often told others of the greatness of God, of His abiding faithfulness, of His “God-ness.” I have reminded grieving family members that “God is still God.” And I absolutely believed it. When I lost my mother many years ago after a long sickness, I believed in the faithfulness of God. When I lost my grandparents within six months of each other, I continued to believe. But when I lost my beloved father suddenly, I understood it.

I am ashamed to say that throughout my ministry, I have counseled with people battling depression, but I never “got” it. I was guilty of thinking, “Get over it.” I thought it was a “mind over matter” thing. I had never been depressed in my life. I grew up in a home filled with love. We never had a lot of money, but we had everything we needed. My mom and dad were supportive of me and my siblings. They were beyond proud of me and were truly my biggest fans. As I grew up, I was happy. I don’t remember going through the normal kinds of teen angst that I see so often. There was no drama in my life. Sure, I had my share of unrequited crushes and mean girls. But I was never bullied and I never felt alone.

As an adult, I married my first real boyfriend who was and is the love of my life. We had a beautiful home, great jobs, and a perfect daughter. Even though I lost my mom when I was pregnant with my daughter, her loss was somehow muted by my newborn child. I felt sadness (still do) and a deep and abiding longing for her (still do), but being a new mother occupied all my time and, I’m sure, helped me to survive her loss. Twenty years went by and I prospered at my career and in my ministry. My marriage was strong. My daughter was happy and healthy and growing up into a beautiful young woman. Life was good. Then, suddenly, without warning, my father died.

A Different Kind of Pain

My sister and I were there when it happened. He had had a fairly routine surgery but had had some complications. The nurse was conducting a routine procedure so my sister and I stepped out to get a Coke. It’s funny how your life can change in twenty minutes. As we walked towards my dad’s room, laughing over some silly joke, we heard the Code being called for his room. For the next twenty minutes, we prayed in the waiting area outside his room, fervently trying to drown out the sounds of the resuscitation efforts of the Code Blue team. And then…he was gone. I remember the doctor talking to me, his voice traveling through a tunnel.

I remember calling my brother and my dad’s sister. I remember standing outside the closed door, trying to get up the nerve to push it open, knowing that my dear father was going to be on the other side of it. The next days were a blur. I remember the funeral preparations. The beautiful cedar casket and the simple red carnations. The haunting George Jones’ version of “Amazing Grace.” My brother and sister and I comforted each other in our shared grief. We were careful and overly gentle with each other. We wanted so much to honor our father in the way we handled his passing. And I believe we did. But I never expected the aftermath.

Into the Pit

Perhaps it was PTSD, the trauma of being present at his passing, the shock of becoming an orphan. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I came to the realization that the entire world had been knocked off its foundation. I have never known such grief. It was a grief that hurt all the time. There was no escape. I remember crying in the night, after everyone had gone to bed. The pain was a knife in my gut and I was afraid that I would never be able to stop crying. It hurt all the time. There was no respite. I felt myself spiraling, headed toward a dark pit that I had never known. I didn’t care about anything. I didn’t want to participate in the things I had previously enjoyed. I didn’t want to go anywhere. My brother and sister and I were in the process of settling my dad’s estate and the only time I felt any relief was when we were together. I know now that I had entered a state of depression, and there was no “getting over it” or mind wrestling it. It was a real place. It was painful and it was cold and it was dark.

It was the pit of Hell for me.

The God of the Depths

That is when I finally understood the faithfulness of God. You see, even in the midst of that darkness, in the bottom of that dark, deep pit, He was there. I finally, truly, understood what David meant. God had not forsaken me. He let me sink as deeply as I needed to and He met me there. He stayed with me there and He led me out of that place. It was a slow process, but He rescued me. If it had not been for God’s faithfulness, I could not have made it back. As horrible as the experience was and as painful as it was, I am so very thankful for what it taught me. God is in the depths of our pit. I never would have known that if I had not been there. God is always, always there.

Even to the End

So I say to you, with an absolute certainty, that I know God is faithful. No matter what you are going through right now, no matter how great your loss or how deep your despair, He is there. There is a lyric in “Good Good Father” that says “But I've heard the tender whispers of love in the dead of night/
And you tell me that you're pleased/And that I'm never alone.” You are never alone. You are loved deeply by God and He will never leave you or forsake you. You cannot flee from His presence. You cannot escape His love. Rest easy, even in the darkness. God is with you. Even to the end.