Crisis Amid Faith

Grief is a common, dare I say, universal life experience. We grieve the death of pets, the end of meaningful relationships, moving from a longtime home, and the death of loved ones. Each encounter with grief brings varying levels of denial, anger, deep sadness, and loneliness — to name just a few. However, grief born from the death of a child can be a dark void that ensnares even the strongest believer. For me, the grief associated with my son, David’s, unexpected death was like a thick, sticky tar that impeded every aspect of my life. For the first time, I experienced a crisis of faith.

I was raised in a Christian home and attended a Protestant church my entire life. I diligently read my Bible and regularly committed time to prayer. I attempted to live as selflessly as possible and devoted time to helping others. In college, I served as my dormitory’s chaplain; after graduating, I led men’s ministries for over 24 years. I was committed to my God and believed my life was firmly grounded in my faith.

That all changed with the news of David’s death on Dec. 24, 2020, Christmas Eve — a significant date in the Christian church. Until the moment two men in uniform knocked on our front door, I lived a pleasant, tidy existence; my little apple cart was nicely organized and ran smoothly. That knock at the door shook the very foundation of my life and ushered in a dark period of questioning everything I professed to believe. My apple cart was wrecked, and the apples were thrown to the ground.

Early in my grief journey, I consistently cried out to God, asking why. I wallowed in the darkness of despair, feeling abandoned by God. Why David? Why now?Was this the thanks I received for over 28 years of service and devotion? Where was the God of my youth I’d served all those years?

Amid the pain and darkness, I continued to attend church on Sundays, but I neglected to pick up my Bible during the week, and my prayer life was meager. The thick, sticky tar of grief made me bitter. I struggled to discern a way forward in faith. I remember visiting David’s grave and cursing God. I knew I served a big God and hoped that He wouldn’t strike me with lightning as I worked through my grief.

My son’s unexpected death sparked a crisis of faith, and even though I was in survival mode — connected only to the Father through my pain as a grieving father, I never ceased crying out to Jesus. While I don’t understand why my son died, my faith has helped me reach a belief that David’s death was part of a larger, eternal plan. Finding peace amidst the storm took time and acceptance that — on this side of heaven — many of my questions might not be answered. I had to learn to surrender my bitterness and doubts.

As I reflect on my own crisis of faith, three things were critical in overcoming it. No matter what you believe, or who you pray to, they may help you navigate your own doubts while grieving and come out on the other side with a fortified faith.

First, I learned to show myself grace. It was OK to question and even to be upset at God and ask why. I was counseled to keep asking the why questions, but not necessarily expect an answer.

Second, I learned that taking a break from routine tasks is normal. I needed to discover a “new normal,” and hitting the pause button on attending small groups, reading my Bible and devotional, praying, etc., was OK. God was still pouring into me.

Third, I surrounded myself with others who experienced a similar loss and who were asking similar questions. There is power in empathy and in walking with others. After years of ministering to others, I allowed others to minister to me. 

My concurrent dark walks through grief and faith have only made me more empathetic, more faithful, and better equipped to both minister to others and mentor fellow grievers. No matter what you believe, deep grief has the power to shake your faith in it. I’d encourage you to incorporate these three suggestions into your own walk and remember that you don’t walk alone.

PHOTOS: A1C Kindra Stewart