When Kim’s three-year-old son passed away, she found plenty of resources on grieving. She says what she really needed, though, “was someone who would give me advice for living, not just grieving.” In this five-day devotional, Kim will share a raw vulnerability, a deep well of wisdom, and the knowledge of someone who’s been there as she walks grieving parents through the life-after-death process and surviving the sorrow of loss.
Moody Publishers
Day 1
Scriptures: Psalms 34:18, Psalms 18:1-19
Are you feeling like you’ll never survive without your child? I did too. Burying your own child, looking at your future without your child, is too much to bear, isn’t it? Yes, it is. You’re probably questioning how a good and loving God could allow this much pain into your life. I wanted this answer too. Yet right now, no answers come. Only tears and unbearable pain.
So how did I survive this sorrow of losing a child? I cried out to God. Honestly, it’s more accurate to say that I screamed and stomped, demanding that God respond to me in some way. I wanted to know that He really existed. My mind needed proof that He cared about me. I didn’t know God when we lost our son Austin, but I came to know Him in the dark, deep pit of grief. It was there that I was finally able to see Him and feel His love for me.
Today, start by letting your emotions out. Direct your pain toward God, not away. Let Him hear the cries of your heart. Remember. . .responding to the cries of people on earth is one of His specialties. Throughout the Bible, we see a pattern of God responding to people who cry out to Him. Psalm 34:18 became my lifeline in surviving the sorrow of losing Austin:
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18 NASB).
It’s okay to ask God to fulfill these promises to you. It’s His very essence to keep His word. So go ahead and cry out (or shout and stomp, like me). Something like this:
“God, You said You would be near to the brokenhearted and my heart is shattered into tiny bits. Where are You? Let me feel that You are near me; make Yourself tangible to me, please. Lord, You promised to save those who are crushed in spirit, and I am completely crushed right now. Rescue me from this pain, save me from being crushed under the weight of this grief. Help me, God!”
For another example of how to cry out to God in your darkest hour, read Psalm 18 and hear how God responded to the cry of David’s heart. When you read Psalm 18, consider this grief your enemy and hear how the Lord will deliver you.
Day 2
Scriptures: Psalms 34:18, John 14:25-29, John 11:17-44
Do you ever wonder if God is upset by how hard you are grieving? Have others tried to lessen your grief by pointing toward heaven? I have heard that Christians should grieve differently because of our hope in Christ and eternal life.
In fact, even Jesus told the disciples that if they loved Him, they would rejoice because He was going to the Father (John 14:28). This statement, however, was made just after Jesus told them:
“These things I have spoken to you while abiding with you. But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said to you. Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful” (John 14: 25–27 NASB).
Jesus was telling them about His death. He was reassuring them by the promise of the Holy Spirit. Jesus wanted the disciples to understand that no matter what they faced after His death, they could have peace. His peace. The peace of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of God.
It’s the only way to survive this, my friend. We must call on the peace of God to wash over us. We can ask for peace to replace the pain. Only God has the power to heal this wound. Yet, when this grief feels overpowering, I think of this fact: Even Jesus wept in sorrow (John 11:35).
What’s stunning is that Jesus was overcome by sorrow even though He planned to resurrect the dead man in just a few minutes! When Jesus encountered the grief of Martha and Mary, He was deeply affected. Jesus wept. He did not chide the people for crying in mourning for Lazarus. In fact, even when Martha and Mary said things to Jesus like “Where were You?” and “If You had been here, my brother would not have died!” Jesus did not rebuke them for questioning Him or crying out in anguish. Instead, He was overcome with compassion for them (John 11). Jesus wept. Even though He planned to raise Lazarus from the dead, Jesus still wept at the sorrow death brings.
I believe Jesus weeps at our sorrow, too. Scripture tells us God holds our tears in His bottle and records every single one:
“You have seen me tossing and turning through the night. You have collected all my tears and preserved them in your bottle! You have recorded every one in your book” (Psalm 56:8 TLB).
Day 3
Scriptures: Psalms 34:18, Psalms 29:11, Psalms 63:6-8, John 14:1-3, John 14:25-27, John 16:22, Philippians 4:4-8, Hebrews 6:13-20, Romans 15:13, Revelation 21:1-7
Losing a child is a unique kind of sorrow. There really is nothing like it. Time, certainly, will not heal this wound. However, you can choose to do something about your pain. You didn’t have a choice when you lost your precious son or daughter—but you have a choice right now.
I remember standing at the crossroad with this very same choice to make. Both choices were tempting. I could turn away from God and walk down the road of wrath and bitterness. I had enough pain and anger to make this very tempting. My child died from a simple case of strep throat in the United States of America in 2008. How could it be so? Wrath seemed appropriate for what had just shattered our family.
Or, I could turn toward God and begin the long, ragged road of grieving next to the only God who promised many things to me. The promises were lovingly tended and secured through the ages in our Bible. The pages whispered longings for peace and joy. How could it be so? Peace and joy seemed entirely out of reach, but there they were in black and white.
I chose God’s way. I chose the road of healing. It’s likely this road toward God is more difficult than the other way. This path of peace and joy is mostly out of your hands and into the Mighty Hand of God. Wrath and bitterness were familiar, and easier. I felt absolutely in control of where and when I could sling some of those around. The path toward God is on our knees, on our face, at the very end of ourselves. Complete and utter surrender to the Creator is where the road begins.
Setting the life of your child, and all your other living children, your spouse, and yourself at the feet of Almighty God is the way to lessening the pain in your soul. After sobbing next to Him for a while, open your Bible and ask the Holy Spirit to reveal the promises that will put some healing balm on your shattered and bleeding heart. Ask the Father to send the full measure of His Holy Spirit to provide the promised peace, God’s peace, beyond what you can imagine possible now that your child is gone.
Today, you’ll find my “Top 10” favorite promises in Scripture to pour some peace over you and guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus. Just read what you can. Maybe copy one onto a notecard and tuck it in your pocket for times when those surprise meltdowns sneak up on you!
Day 4
Scriptures: Psalms 144:4, Psalms 39:5, James 4:14
Do you feel like you started reading this plan so long ago? How could it only be Day 4? Life without your child can feel like forever. Heavy grief days feel like walking in cement shoes while carrying a wet blanket. Life is dragging along in slow motion.
Yet sometimes it seems like your child was just here. A minute ago she was up in her room. An hour ago he was talking to you on the phone. It still doesn’t feel real. You feel certain they’ll be home when you get there. Has it been a month already?
All our days are now separated in “before” and “after.” Time stands forever divided into very different halves: those with our child . . . and those without. The days when things seemed normal. . .and the days now stretching before us. We don’t want to imagine the rest of our lives.
We wait for the hope of heaven. We wait for an eternal glory where God will wipe away all our tears. Where there will be no more sorrow, no more pain (Revelation 21:1–7). What shall we do when our days on earth seem to stretch out beyond our ability to cope? Where do we turn when we feel like there is no possible way to hold on for yet another year?
I turn to those verses in my Bible that remind me human life is less than a drop in the ocean in terms of eternity with God. Dwelling with God in eternal glory is more than my mind can comprehend. So I must consider those things I can wrap my mind around, and try to shift my thinking to an eternal perspective.
I understand how a shadow passes through the light for a moment. My life is like that short span of time it takes for light to chase away a shadow (Psalm 144:4).
I know how quickly a person can take one breath. My whole life is just one tiny breath in comparison to eternity in heaven (Psalm 39:5).
It doesn’t take long for the light and warmth of the sun to dissipate the mist in a morning sunrise (James 4:14).
In the same way, it won’t be long before I see Austin again. Hugging him tight is just a breath away. Before I know it, I’ll hear him laugh. Freedom from this waiting. Freedom from this pain. Freedom from death and sorrow. All are mere moments away. All our days are nothing when compared with eternity.
Turn your heart toward heaven, and let eternal glory carry you along another day.
Day 5
Scriptures: Isaiah 61:1-3, Isaiah 65:17-25, Revelation 21, Revelation 22
I know you can’t imagine a single day without pain right now. I know. To be honest, most days still begin and end (with some stabs in between) with a bit of pain for me, even so many years later.
It’s not in this life that I expect to be free from pain. My heart is clinging to the steadfast Scriptures where God promises to fix what’s broken. Someday, your broken heart will be no more. One day, death will end forever. There will be no graves in heaven. When God creates the new heaven and the new earth, there will be no hospitals, no funeral homes, no cemeteries. Oh glorious day!
Can you imagine such a place? For a moment, try to picture a world with no accidents to steal life away in a moment. No bodies to break down and shut down. No cancer. No birth defects. No evil to battle. No addictions. No sin. No heart disease. No kidney failure. No rebellion. No murder. No overdoses. No suicides. No infertility. No miscarriage. No families left behind. No empty beds. No empty seat at the table. No more pain. Sadness won’t exist. Depression can’t creep in. Anxiety can’t steal joy.
If you believe in God the Father and Jesus the Savior, you can rest in the fact that heaven will come. Someday, heaven will be your reality. Whenever I think about heaven, and I think about seeing God face-to-face, I wonder if I’ll ask Him. I wonder if the question will still be on my heart, if it will escape out of my lips: why? Will I ask God why my child had to die? I don’t know.
Often, I think heaven will be so amazing and perfect that I’ll somehow understand how broken this earth and human life really are since they are separated from God. Losing Austin will somehow make sense to me. Other times, I picture God making room beside Him, room for me to sit next to my Father God and have a long talk about my life, Austin’s life, our time on earth, and how He used everything for His glory.
I picture Him with sorrow in His eyes as He talks with me, His child. He shows me the bottle where He collected all my tears. A book is opened that recorded every single day of my mourning, every single tear. There are reasons. Some have nothing to do with me, but everything to do with Him.
I’ll suddenly understand that all things on earth belong to Almighty God. All things happen for His Kingdom, for His glory. My life, my child’s life, my family, we are only part of His story. The ending of His story, however, is what my heart longs for—eternal glory, no more death, no more sorrow.
Until that day, we have to keep trying to imagine it! Let your heart be lifted up by imagining heaven today. Allow your mind to be settled by a glimpse of glory. Find a place to let the sun shine on your face, close your eyes, and try to picture the world that awaits us. Imagine the day when you will see God face-to-face:
“No longer will you have the sun for light by day, Nor for brightness will the moon give you light; But you will have the LORD for an everlasting light, And your God for your glory. Your sun will no longer set, Nor will your moon wane; For you will have the LORD for an everlasting light, And the days of your mourning will be over” (Isaiah 60:19–20 NASB).