S2S Sisters: "Navigating the Journey of Grief" by three sisters

Lesson Transcript

Our prayer is that you will be filled with the knowledge of His will, strengthened with all might according to His glorious power. All right, sisters, it's good to see you all this afternoon. We're going to get started here, and welcome to Strength to Strength. We have another wonderful blessing of sisters being willing to share their journeys and make themselves vulnerable on this platform, and we're so blessed to have this opportunity to hear from them.

So we have three on today, and I will introduce them in the order that they will speak. So I'll start with Laura Smucker. Laura and John have been married for 34 years. They have five children and three living grandchildren. Their lifelong passion has been to share Christ to the world. They were privileged to raise their family in Poland, where they served as missionaries for 10 plus years. In 2011, God called them to leave this ministry and return to the States.

While this was one of the hardest decisions of their lives, they were able to find peace in God's clear direction during this difficult time. Little did they know that He had a purpose in calling them back to Halsey Mennonite Church in Oregon, the same church they had left 17 years earlier. Our children, their children, got to experience five precious years with their step-grandma before she was called to heaven.

She had the gift of living six years close to her family when her sister was diagnosed with cancer and left her earthly home soon after. She was thankful they had given up dreams of ministry on the foreign field. God gave them that time to make memories together. Laura has a heart for grieving people because of what their family has been called to experience. Losing her mom at cancer to cancer at 13 started her on a path that no child ever asked to walk.

In 2017, they moved to an outreach to Madras, Oregon, where her husband serves as minister in the Palisades Mennonite Church. Along with writing a few books, she has a little home candle business that is her happy place, and her greatest prayer is to live fully, faithfully, and to know her Comforter in a real way until her days on this earth are done. So then we'll go to Gina Martin. We welcome Gina from Southern Pennsylvania. She has six children.

She grew up as the oldest of nine children and was blessed to be given a strong foundation of faith in God and knowledge of the Scripture. Gina was enjoying life as a homeschool mom and serving with her husband, Ed, at Mount Olive Mennonite Church when her world was rocked with Ed's brain cancer diagnosis. Since his death in 2019, she has fought to find joy in her new role as a widow and solo mom. One of her delights is words, whether through reading, editing, or teaching.

She hopes to see her community, her family, and her own heart continually transformed by Jesus Christ. And we also welcome Delphine Martin. Soon after their marriage in 1981, James and Delphine were involved with the mission work in India. In 1994, they were able to return to India along with their five children. Two more were welcomed into the family during this 10-year stint. Their four-year-old son, Matthew, fell into a well and drowned one evening after a prayer meeting in a local village.

Through this soul-wrenching time of anguish, God's everlasting arms were there to bear them up in amazing ways. Presently, James and Delphine reside in Durham, Ontario. She supports her husband in his senior pastor role in the Gospel Light Mennonite Church. Their children and 14 grandchildren live in Ontario, Kenya, Idaho, and Alberta, providing plenty of opportunity to travel. She has a deep desire to reflect the image of Jesus at home or abroad. So I forgot to introduce myself.

My name is Linda Amant, and I'm from Calgary, Alberta. So yeah, I am very blessed to have this opportunity to introduce these ladies, and we're looking forward to hearing from each one of you. So I will pray, and then we'll start with Laura, hearing from Laura. So let's pray. Dear Heavenly Father, we come to You today. We are so thankful for Your presence and for the confidence that Your Holy Spirit is with us, walking with us, comforting us, giving us much wisdom. Thank You for this knowledge.

Help us to have the faith to believe this and walk in this more fully. I ask that You would be with each of these dear sisters in the next hour as we are on this platform together sharing today, and as they make themselves vulnerable and share things that possibly they haven't shared with others, especially not such a broad spectrum as this. Just give them grace, Lord. Give them joy in You. Thank You for walking with them. Thank You for their stories.

Thank You for the valleys, Lord, that we all walk through, and we ask that Your Holy Spirit would touch each heart listening here as we speak and give these sisters grace in this time of speaking. Help them not to feel stressed or anxious about this, but that they could feel Your rest and Your peace and passion for what You've done in their lives. All this we ask in Jesus' name. Amen. So Laura, we'll start with you, and you can just go ahead and share and then go just straight on to Gina and to Delphine.

Oh, and another thing here, after they're done speaking, we're going to have a question and answer time, so feel free to ask questions or share whatever you have on your heart today. So go ahead, Laura. Okay, thank you very much for having me here today.

I feel very, very vulnerable about this journey of my life, and maybe partly just because this wasn't really a series of decisions that I made that caused me to walk this path, but rather it was circumstances that God brought into my life completely out of my control. So in my humanness, I do feel vulnerable, but I do have a heart for grieving people very much.

Much of my grief has been public, and I know that I have friends that carry private griefs that maybe cannot be shared in a place like this, and I do want to honor you today if that's your story. And I also know that not everyone has experienced untimely grief. This is a grief outside of what I would call normal grief. Normal grief is losing someone dear to you after a long, full life. Real to grieve the death of an old person, an older grandma, grandpa, and there are tears, of course.

But I think what we're really talking about today is untimely griefs that make up our lives. These griefs cause us to learn prematurely about this reality. And I'm also hoping there are those on here today that are walking alongside grieving people, those in your community, those that you interact with day by day. And I just want to bless you in that because I want to tell you that you are a big part of the healing process of your friends.

Through the Holy Spirit's nudging, you are there to comfort them in deep sorrow. In Matthew, it says, "Weep with those that weep." And I think that includes that deep valley of sorrow. And for all of us, whether we've experienced grief or not, I would say, learn to know the Comforter, the Holy Spirit. Jesus promised He would guide us into all truth. Then when those deep sorrows come, you have a place to go, a place of refuge where you will find comfort.

I don't want to just focus on my losses, but I do know that not very many of you know me, and it would take a long time for me to tell my whole story. But that's not really what this talk is about. But I thought I should maybe just mention briefly why I'm here on this panel today. My world fell apart 40 years ago when I was 13. In 1982, when my mom died of cancer, she was 39 years old. I was the oldest daughter. My brothers were 16 and 9. My sisters were 10 and 2. My world was shattered.

And I didn't want to walk this path that had been forced upon me. Little did I know that my path of grief had just begun. In 2005, my brother lost his five children in a tragic accident. We were serving as missionaries in Poland as a family, so we were far away. Such a devastating loss for me, my nieces and nephews, the ages of my own children. In 2015, my stepmother died from cancer. Again, our family couldn't help but wrestle with, "Why? Our family again? Have we not learned this path?

What is God trying to teach us?" In 2018, my biological sister died at age 43 of cancer. I really thought at that point life couldn't go on. She was three years younger than me. And after our mom's death and in the years after that, we kind of helped, I would say, just helped raise each other. I so well remember telling each other soon after we started our own families, "I would rather not have children than to experience what we did as children, as a child." And that's what happened in her life.

And my heart just broke as I watched her children grappling with the same things I did as a child. The next grief in our lives was not a death, but rather a missing child. In 2021, our son was kidnapped and went missing for 62 days. No closure. A giving up of him daily, not knowing if he would come home dead or alive. Very traumatic for me. Such a grief that I had not experienced before.

And then six months after he was returned in June of 2022, our first grandson and grandchild, he was our first grandchild, died very suddenly at five weeks old. Again, I wondered if life could begin really good again. I don't know. Something about watching my child grieve was so excruciating. I would have rather taken this grief on myself, who had already had an overflowing cup of sadness, than to watch my son and his wife mourn and grieve the loss of their first child.

But as my grief has matured, and it's 40 years, my mom actually is gone now as long as she lived on this earth. So it's a long time. But as my grief matured, I've come to understand just a few things about this path. God doesn't always take the cup of suffering from us, as we might wish, but instead, He gives us promises, promises to give us comfort. In Matthew 5, "Blessed are those that mourn, for they will be comforted. Meet our needs." Philippians 4, "My God shall supply all your needs." He promises to guide us.

When He has come, that means the Holy Spirit, He will guide you into all truth and to give us strength. "Blessed be the God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercy, the God of all comfort." I love that verse. He's always present with us. He never forsakes us. He promises to bring a harvest from our pain. And in so many of our family events over the years, grief ran right alongside our times of true happiness. I have many examples of that.

But it is possible to find happiness even amidst grief. It's hard to explain, but there can be joy and grief at the same time. For example, two of our children's weddings, one during the time of our son's captivity, which he didn't attend, and then the other one married just three weeks after our grandson's death, we found very bittersweet, and many tears were shed because of the pain we were experiencing at the same time as joy. The cup of suffering is hard, intensely so.

But as I ponder the past griefs, I've come to realize that if you allow it, God can indeed heal your shattered heart. You can begin to see that suffering teaches us what life is all about. It can teach us about real joy and real peace. It can teach us about what is really important. And it really does remind us of our home in heaven. So I have just a few grace steps, I call them here.

In our muddled state of grief, I'm talking mostly here about very fresh grief, but some of the grace steps that I think are just so important in those first few days, they became very real to me in the different griefs that I faced over the years. Number one, wake up to new morning mercies. A new day has dawned, and at first, it can seem like a mockery, but its mercies are there for you, grace in abundance. Number two, lean on the moment-by-moment grace. God doesn't give us grace for tomorrow.

He only gives grace for today, sometimes just for the moment that we're in. Number three, count on God's strength to show up in your weakness. He promises to meet us in our weakness, and we can find there strength for us. And number four, trust the future to God and do the next thing. Don't think about the rest right now. Just do the next thing. Number five, let grace govern your talk and guide your relationships. In our deep grief, it's easy to lash out, to compare, to be angry. Let grace govern.

Maybe just say nothing at all. And number six, let yourself off the hook of the high expectations. Allow yourself space to grieve for yourself. This is not a time to help everyone else grieve. It's your time to receive comfort and feel the loss. I think this is so important. And number seven, remember, it won't always be like this. You never really want the pain to go away. It feels really disrespectful of the one that's gone from you, but God gave us this gift of healing.

And it doesn't mean that you miss them less, but we have to allow life to go on. And number eight, give time for tears. To begin to heal, we need to give ourself permission to enter the darkness, like a dark tunnel when we can't see the light on the other side. The only way through is to enter the loss fully. So painful, but so worth it if we want to begin to heal. Tears heal and never be ashamed of them.

I was a child during my first experience with grief, so I thought maybe I would just share some from that perspective. From a child's perspective, 40 years ago, our family didn't really know any other family that had lost a mom or maybe even a parent. It's hard to believe now with all the ways of communication we have available, but we felt very alone. We didn't have grief groups. We had nothing to guide us. We had the Lord. And of course, He was there for us in a big way.

We had the very supportive family, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and a very supportive church community. And they were there for us. Here are some of the ways our family walked this journey after my mom's death. And I believe, even though we didn't know all the ways to do it, that I think these were healthy ways. We didn't do it perfectly, but I just picked out a few things that I feel like were good for me as a child.

So the first thing I thought about is that as we moved through those first few days, months, weeks after my mom's death, my dad really tried to allow us grace to grieve in the way that we needed to. Some of us needed a good cry. Some of us needed solitude. Some of us wanted to shut it out. We all needed understanding. Personally, I personally was a very open person. All I wanted was for life to be normal again. I just masked my pain. My facade was happy, good, lucky, exterior. Everyone thought I was fine.

But the pain was often too big to understand or even to put into words for me. And so it was easier just for me to stuff it inside. Some of my siblings grieved differently, and it was hard sometimes to know what each other truly needed. The second thing I thought of was my dad created a safe place for hard questions. Even though he had no answers, he let us ask them, "Why did my mom have to die? Will you die too?

How will we ever go on here without mom?" I know now there weren't really any good answers to those questions, but he never hid his grief from us or even tried to soften it. But he tried to lead us to trust into God's care, into His arms. Number three, Dad tried to keep our routine even when it felt anything but normal.

I remember the day after the funeral, Dad gathered us in the living room and told us, "For our own sakes, even though we don't feel like it, we need to go back to school." The hardest thing I ever did, but probably the best thing, just to begin to face life in a new routine, a new normal, if you can say that it's normal. It's not. Number four, Dad tried to make sure we didn't avoid grief. But how could we? It was constantly in front of us. But we did a lot of talking, reminiscing.

I remember just feelings as a child, sadness, anger, fear, loneliness, regret, envy, longing, just a lot of heavy, hard things for a child to process. In a sense, when a child loses one parent, they really lose two parents because the other parent is in such deep grief as well. So it's just really heavy for a child. The other thing that my dad tried to do with us is he kept the hope of heaven alive. It just made heaven seem so much closer. And the longing for our heavenly home was really real to me as a child.

All I wanted was to be with my mom. And if she was up there, of course, I wanted to be there too. Such a child's faith. And number six, we needed to learn how to be gracious receivers. As a 13-year-old, I was just in that not an adult, not a child. And I tried to do my best, but I know that I could only do what a 13-year-old could do. But I remember very much aunts and uncles, grandparents, friends, church family, just giving to our family abundantly. They carried us through those first years of devastating loss.

I remember groceries being brought, clothes washed and showing up for us, dresses sewed, lunches packed, practical things. I remember my brother and I each had a birthday just within a couple of weeks of my mom's death, and they had celebrations for us. So sweet of them. Looking back, those were big things. But at the same time, they were not all easy to accept. Who likes to be on the receiving end?

But I have learned that to refuse people's offer of help in a time like this is really to deny others the blessing of giving. So lastly, I just want to touch a little bit on how to relate to those in devastating loss. Maybe more. I know one of my friends asked me one time, "I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do." And to be perfectly honest, I don't either. But I just thought I would share a few things that I found. Those first days, weeks, months are so raw and tender.

And I think words can hurt much more deeply than they would at any other time. So a word fitly spoken is so crucial at a time of sorrow and loss. And I know people mean well, but I do think the words you say are so important. Or maybe not say, actually, is sometimes a better thing. In the book, Life Can Be Good Again by Lisa Apello, she has a great section on what to say and what not to say. And I borrowed some of her list here. I added a few things, but just a few things that we maybe even heard during our loss.

And people mean well, but it's just something to think about for those that are trying to comfort. One thing that you should not say ever is, "I know how you feel," because everyone's loss is different. And I can't even say that. I mean, I haven't lost a spouse. I haven't lost. There's losses that I have not had. Even two people with the same loss grieve differently because of personality, relationships, circumstances, and much more. But maybe you could just say instead, "I'm sorry.

I'm sorry you're hurting." It's just so much more comforting. I know some people say, "Well, at least fill in the blank. She's not suffering anymore. She had a good life. She's in heaven," etc., etc. That's just not a good thing to say. Showing someone what could have been worse doesn't really make them feel any better in their loss. And maybe you could say instead, "My heart hurts for you or your deep loss." It's just important to be careful what we say.

Another cliché that often you hear, "All things work together for good." Well, how could this be wrong? If it's true, I mean, it's in the Bible. But there again, it is a truth, but it's not a time to say this truth. It rushes the person in deep grief to find a reason for it instead of allowing space for them to lament. Someday they may understand this, but now is not the time to quote this kind of verse. Maybe you could say instead, "I'm sorry you have to go through this." What not to say?

Everything happens for a reason. God is sovereign over everything. We know that. We see tragedy, evil. We see in the Bible examples of this, God's sovereignty. But even though it's biblically accurate, it does gloss over someone's really very real pain. We may not see or understand the reason for our suffering, even the sight of heaven. So just say, "I'm sorry. If you want to talk about it, I'm listening." Advice isn't always well received at this kind of a time.

Another thing we often heard is, "They're in a better place." Just another thing that rushes people through their deep grief instead of giving them space. Yes, we do have the gift of eternity, and we're so thankful for that. But it doesn't take away the raw ache of missing this person on earth. Maybe you could just say, "I know you miss whoever. I'm sorry." And the last one I was thinking about, "Call me if you need anything." They'll never call. They're too overwhelmed to even know what they need.

They can't bring themselves to put their needs out there, maybe. Or yeah, they're just likely they can't even think that far. But instead, maybe just look for needs. Go find their go get their laundry. Go find some clothes for them. Iron some clothes, whatever. Whatever you could do, follow what God nudges you to do. God is faithful in that. So those are just some tips on things that words that we say sometimes, and we mean well, but maybe they could be spoken at a better time.

So let's not miss what God has for us in this path that we didn't ask for because we have in our hands we have our hands so tightly clenched around the life that we wanted or maybe even thought we deserved instead of what God has for us. And I think it's just important that we don't miss what God has for us in something hard. So keep fighting for joy. Find God's goodness around you. Trust that God is reshaping that shattered piece of your heart into something far beyond what you could ask or imagine.

And you will find your smile again, and joy will be restored to your heart. The psalmist says, "Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning." Thank you. Well, I could listen to Lara some more. Thanks for sharing those things. I could learn a lot from you. So there is so much that can be shared on the topic of grief, and there's so many different ways that we experience grief. And Lara shared several of those.

But today, I think I'll just share a bit about my story and maybe some snapshots of different scenes from my story and what I've learned from it. So on an evening in May of 2017, our family doctor called with the results of my husband Ed's MRI. And that was the first time I heard the words brain tumor, probably cancer. There are moments that you never forget. And some of you have faced those times. A phone call with devastating news, a report of a life-changing disease, a traumatic loss.

And those moments can change your life forever. And on that evening, I put down the phone, and I went to tell Ed about the doctor's report. But I didn't know if he even heard me or understood. He was buried in bed with excruciating headaches, which was the reason that he had gotten an MRI. And we women often rely on our husbands to do the hard things, handle the challenging tasks. But that night, I had to tell our six children, and at that time, they were ages 1 to 13.

I had to tell them that their dad had something in his head that could kill him. At that time, I didn't know much about brain tumors or brain cancer. And of course, I was just hoping that the diagnosis was wrong, that it would be curable, that life would maybe be rocky for a little bit, but we could go back to normal. But I also knew that doctors don't normally call you after hours for good news, and they don't throw around the C-word unless they know it's serious.

And often, when we first meet grief, our reaction is denial. Surely, there's some kind of mistake. I heard wrong. This can't be happening. And we may try to be optimistic and look on the bright side and throw around those verses like, "God works everything out for good." And we have our own ideas of how God could bring good out of this. And in my case, I wanted Ed to be healed. I wish for God to receive glory with a miraculous healing, that this tumor in the MRI would just disappear.

But when we are faced with news like this, it is okay to mourn, to grieve. Grieving is not a sign that you're a weak Christian and you don't have faith. And I found a lot of comfort in Jesus' reaction to grief when Lazarus, his friend, died. Jesus knew that he was going to do this amazing miracle and bring him back to life again. But when he got the news of his death, Jesus wept. He joined in the sorrow of his friends in that moment. And I love the verse that God is near to the brokenhearted.

Sometimes we, as humans, avoid grieving people. We don't know what to say, and we can sort of avoid them. But God does not avoid us in our grief. He comes near. Sometimes it might feel like he's far away. We might feel abandoned. But the scripture says he is near. He will never leave us nor forsake us, even if our feelings don't line up with that truth. So after Ed's diagnosis of a brain tumor, Ed asked to be anointed with oil. So practice our church does following James 5.

So just a couple of days later, all of our church ministry and their wives and some of our family gathered in our living room for a time of prayer for healing and the anointing of oil. And by this time, many, many people were praying for Ed. You know how news like this travels. And I don't know how many people were praying for him, but many. And we were all begging God for him to be healed. And we know God can answer prayer, but he doesn't always answer in the way that we want.

And Ed was not given physical healing. But after that anointing service, I was given unexplainable peace. And I look back on that day as, I don't know, a turning point. By that time, I had not been sleeping well for weeks. Ed had been having these headaches, and I was worried about him and what it meant and just, yeah, very concerned. But in the coming months, even though we learned more about cancer, Ed had surgery. He began treatment. We spent a lot of time in doctors' offices and hospitals.

But I was able to sleep restfully, which I truly believe was a miracle, a result of prayer of God's people. It's something that only he could do. It didn't make sense that we were given peace. But like many people who are faced with grief, I have wrestled with a lot of questions. Why didn't God heal Ed? Did we lack faith? Why do godly people get cancer? Why do they have fatal accidents? Was this a test from God? Was it an attack from Satan? Was it just chance? So many questions.

And many people lose their faith in God in a time of suffering. We want to believe that God is loving, that he is good, that he knows all things, that he's all-powerful. And the scripture tells us that these things are true. But when we are faced with a time of suffering, our faith does come under severe stress. It is tested. And in the months after Ed's diagnosis, I long to know God better. But when you're under stress, it's hard to even read your Bible or concentrate.

So I took a notebook and started reading slowly through the New Testament and writing down every verse that said something about God's character, who God was, what he did. I knew I needed that foundation of knowing what does God say about himself. And like many other people who are faced with hard times, I started reading the stories in the Bible about suffering people, people like Job, Joseph, John the Baptist, men who were faithful to God. We know they were faithful to God, yet they suffered terribly.

And sometimes I think we've heard their stories so often, and we know the end of the story that we minimize the deep suffering they did experience. I also studied Hebrews 11, the faith chapter. And we have stories in there of miracles, but there's also those who died awful deaths, I mean, worse than cancer. I asked questions like, why was Peter released from prison in a miraculous way, but James, the brother of John, was killed? I read stories of Anabaptist martyrs.

There's so many examples of godly people who have suffered. And I still have many unanswered questions. I believe God allows many things to remain mysteries. And I've accepted I may never know the reason why Ed died. Scripture says suffering came to earth because of sin. We know the world God made was perfect. It did not include cancer and death. But sin brought death. Romans 8:22 says, "All creation groans." And we see that groaning every day.

Look around us and we see addictions, abuse, dementia, infertility, epilepsy, wars, fatherless children. And I believe God does have all power and that sometimes he does work in miraculous ways. Sometimes he chooses to heal. Sometimes tumors do disappear. Sometimes accidents are narrowly averted. Sometimes the plans of evil people are thwarted. Sometimes prayers are answered in amazing ways. And we rejoice when that happens.

But I realized that miracles would not be a miracle if it always happened, if they were normal everyday occurrences. Just for example, if every time a person tripped, God just worked against the laws of gravity and kept that person from falling. Well, we would likely get careless when we're walking alongside a cliff. We would take that miracle for granted. But God rarely works against his own forces of nature, things like the laws of gravity. Even though he can, we believe he's capable of doing that.

Even in Jesus' temptation to throw himself down off the temple, he wasn't willing to tempt God to protect him from the laws of gravity. And I believe this applies to other laws of nature too. God made our bodies in such a way that we do fight off many illnesses because of our immune systems. But sometimes there's viruses or diseases that are stronger than our bodies can fight. And we can have sometimes the miracles of healing like the story of Lazarus.

But all of us will one day succumb to the curse on earth, and we will all someday die. And of course, we know that God allows people to make choices and sometimes evil choices, and sometimes they hurt others. Sometimes we make poor choices and suffer consequences. So I don't know why Ed got brain cancer. There's very little known about brain cancer. He actually has an uncle that died of brain cancer. So there could be a genetic connection, but it's not been researched very much.

But I do know cancer was not in God's original design for this earth. But in my unanswered question, I come back to the reality of Jesus Christ. And it is in him that we have hope. We have hope for salvation from sin. We have hope that there's a life after this one. We have hope that we can live in victory during this life. And we know that God can take even evil, awful things like cancer, and he can bring glory to himself. Joseph said that what his brothers meant for evil, God meant for good.

God can redeem even other people's sin and mistakes. Ed and I spent a lot of time in doctors' offices and hospitals. We saw many, many people who do not have hope, that do not have peace. Brain cancer patients often suffer from depression, which is understandable. And oftentimes, as doctors would ask about his emotional state, he could say that because of God, he had peace. And I'll admit that sometimes I was tempted to think, "Well, of course, you have peace. You get to die and go to heaven.

I'm the person that's stuck here alone that has to raise these children by myself." But I didn't know how hard it was. I mean, he was 40. He had to give up a lot of dreams and plans for the future. And God did give him a peace that truly only can come from God. Elizabeth Elliott wrote that acceptance is the key to peace in suffering. And I know Ed found that to be true, and I have found that true myself. A few months after Ed's diagnosis, we took a short family trip to a cabin in Virginia.

At that time, Ed was feeling well. He had recovered from his first brain surgery. But the doctors told him that very likely the tumor would come back. And so I was already worried about his next MRI. And so the one afternoon, I hiked alone up to the top of the mountain. And you know how nature can make you feel. I looked out across these huge mountain ranges and distant valleys. And I stood there and reviewed what I knew about God. I knew he was good. I knew he was big. I knew he was wise.

And I knew I had a choice. I could accept the future, even though I knew that probably that was going to mean widowhood, or I could choose bitterness. And I just remember standing on that mountain and holding up my hands and yielding the future to God. And it wasn't going to be the last time that I had to surrender. And Ed's tumor did come back. The next few months, Ed would lose his personality, his ability to communicate, his mobility, and eventually his life.

But always, God was there to give his presence and to give his peace. Before Jesus left this earth, he knew his disciples were going to grieve deeply. And he said, "Peace I leave with you. My peace I give unto you. Not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." Grief is a hard journey. And it's not one that I would have chosen.

But whatever grief journey that you face, I know that God is big enough and he is powerful enough to carry you, and he can redeem even the very hardest things. Thank you. Well, I guess it's my turn. Thank you, ladies. I feel like I definitely can what you've said just resonates with me. Can you hear me? I guess you can. Okay. Yeah, it just resonates with me. And I just feel like I can learn a lot from you ladies, from your grief journey. And now I will go ahead with telling mine.

Put on the much, much tape Matthew begged many times on a family road trip. The cassette would be turned on, and soon he'd be scrambling over the seats till he found himself smack in front of the speaker. And once again, we would listen to his favorite songs. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. And his ways are higher than mine, much, much higher.

Little did we realize as we were preparing for prayer meeting on the evening of March 11, 2002, how soon we would be impacted by the lyrics of this little song. We were invited to conduct a first-time meeting in the village of Patpadya, just outside of Ambikapur, Chhattisgarh, India, where we lived at this time. Ogersai, a Hindu convert, and Lucia gave us a hearty welcome into their tiny mud house. Since it was our first time in their home, they honored us by washing our feet.

The lighting was very dim that evening due to low voltage, making it a real challenge to read. But it didn't hinder us from lustily participating in the beautiful Hindi hymns. Matthew sang especially heartily as we sat there cross-legged on straw mats. During the meeting, a well-drilling rig started up about 500 meters from the house. After the service, the boys were anxious to check out what all the noise and bright lights were all about.

Matthew normally would stick close to mom in a new place, but this time his four-year-old curiosity compelled him to join in the excitement. We finished up our chai and visiting and began to pack into the jeep. We were 15 people in our three families. And when the spot beside me was still empty, looking around, I asked, "Who's missing? Who's missing?" And then Daniel, Pastor D. James' son, hopped in beside me.

Once home, James unlocked the gate for our family, which consisted of niece, Joanna, Sohatmati, and Salmi; they were two girls from the village, Abi Rao, a young man from Andhra Pradesh, and four of our seven children, Jared, Melody, Matthew, and Mercy. Suddenly, James said, "Where's Matthew? Where is Matthew?" He immediately called Darryl and wrote a Mac. They were a short-term family that was with us at the time. He said, "Is Matthew sleeping in the jeep?" Of course, he wasn't.

So James and Abi Rao hopped on the motorbike and headed back to Ogersai's house. Meanwhile, at home, our initial fear was, "Is he kidnapped?" because of the Knoxlight activity going on in our area. But then Jared, with real urgency, said, "Mom, there was a well." That's when a sense of fear and dread seized me. Back at Ogersai, someone soon mentioned the well. There was a path that led from the house to the well. James shone his flashlight into this hole in the ground.

There on the water floated a chapel, a flip-flop. He shone it around the edge of the hole, and sure enough, here was the other pink chapel. Someone offered to go down and check and soon confirmed that Matthew's body was indeed there. After they brought him up in a bamboo chilky basket, James thought he heard a rattle in his chest. So after clearing the passages, he started to do artificial respiration. And then he and Abi Rao headed to the hospital.

They swung around by Darryl's gate, and James shouted in, "Bring Delphine to the hospital." Darryl and I had a very silent trip over to the Holy Cross Hospital. We walked into the casualty room, and there was Matthew's wet body on the examining table. I went up to the table, pulled up his eyelids, and said, "Matthew, Matthew, wake up." The doctor drew me back, saying, "He's gone. He's gone. What now? What now? There are no undertakers. There's no one to do any planning or preparing." We were shocked, devastated.

James tenderly picked up the body of our son, and Darryl took us back home where Jared, Melody, Joanna, Sohatmati, and Salmi were waiting for us. Two-year-old Mercy was fast asleep. Now we knew we needed to get the news out. James sent Darryl to the only international calling booth that was open that hour of the night to get the news to our two oldest children, Marcus and Bethany, who had left Canada six months earlier. We also called the team in Andhra Pradesh where our daughter, Charity, was helping at the time.

The believers needed to know in the villages that we worked in, night trips were very dangerous because of the Knoxlights, and we usually avoided them. But Mr. Patak and Abi Rao offered to make that trip. They also informed close friends of ours, Mr. and Mrs. Getter, longtime missionary friends who lived close to the villages. The close neighbors and friends heard the commotion at our house, and they came over to be with us that night. Now we needed to prepare the body. How do you prepare a body for burial?

I did as I was told amid much weeping. At one point, Pastor D. James offered to take over. I said, "No, it's the last thing I can do for my son." I dressed him in a little yellow shirt that I had just found fit him that morning. I thought this would be appropriate for the coming season. And then we laid him on a small table and waited till morning. Calls from Canada soon came so we could weep with our children and our family and our friends.

Emails from all over the world brought comfort and encouragement from friends and strangers alike. That night, nine-year-old Melody wept unconsolably. James held her and explained how that Matthew's in heaven with Jesus, where he has no pain or sorrow. And then he took her and laid down on our bed with her so she could sleep a while. She believed his words and fell asleep. About one and a half hours later, James, feeling exhausted, went to lay down beside her. I quote James.

"When I lay down, Melody opened her eyes and smiled so sweetly. 'I just saw Matthew,' she said. 'He was in heaven, and it was so nice. The streets were golden, and he was singing, 'Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. And his ways are higher than mine, much, much higher.'" Melody was so comforted, so comforted that her peace flowed over to me. Sleep would not come that night, but the load was lightened a little.

Later, she told me how that she saw Jesus, the throne, the rainbow, and a river from under God's chair and Matthew picking flowers. What a comfort, a soothing balm to all of us. By 5:30 a.m., James and Pastor D. James went to give an incident report to the police. They made sure that everything was done according to the law so there'd be no problems for us later.

The deputy superintendent of police went with them from there to find a burial plot, a carpenter to prepare a coffin, and to make sure the autopsy was done. He stayed with us the entire day as a caring friend. Now there was a well near our house where women came for water. From there, the news spread through the town quickly. By 6:00 a.m., the first mourners arrived. Many sat on mats a while. Some sang and wept with us.

People brought armloads of flowers that they cut from their gardens and bushes and got two meters of gauzy graves cloth that they laid on Matthew. Our Hindu neighbors were sure that Monday was an inauspicious day. But when we shared Melody's vision of Matthew in heaven with God, they didn't know what to say. By mid-morning, jeeploads of believers from the village arrived. The Indian people are accustomed to drop everything and go at the time of a death.

Some of the brethren went and dug the grave for us in the Catholic cemetery. Now, Pastor D. James did not feel like he could conduct the service for us. He said he can't do it. He was just too close to our family. So Mr. Getter kindly offered to do it right there in our front room with Matthew's body in the coffin now on a small table. The people crowded around as Mr. Getter shared the scriptures of comfort and hope.

This crowd of rich and poor, varying castes and creeds, joined us in our grief as we moved on to the graveyard at the edge of the town. Now, James really wanted to sing one English song. So with tears streaming down our faces, we embraced our loss as we sang four verses of Jesus while our hearts are bleeding, each time ending with, "Thy will be done." It is Indian custom in this area to have the oldest male member do the final rites at the time of death.

James needed to nail the lid onto the white cloth-covered box that held our body's son, our son's body. Sometime after the burial, Joanna pointed up to the sky. Jesus clouds, those big fluffy clouds that Matthew so often had seen and asked, "Is Jesus coming in that cloud?" Some of our kind neighbors prepared food for the crowd of believers who left home so abruptly to come to us. Others went in to clean the house before we got back from the graveyard.

In the next few days, three meals a day were provided for us from the Christians, Muslims, and Hindus. The whole community was so caring. Then by Friday, it stopped. Charity and the team from Andhra Pradesh were with us by then. Now, our relatives planned a memorial service in Canada, especially for Marcus and Bethany's sake. We were so comforted as we were able to listen to the English hymns and words spoken on that late Friday night. And the Lord graciously protected the phone connection.

There was only one time it was cut and was quickly reconnected. In the following weeks and months, one day when I was struggling to make sense of Matthew's death, I had a little dialogue with God that went something like this. I asked God, "Why? I didn't understand. Hadn't we left our homeland, our family? Three of our children were serving in other places. They weren't even able to be there with us.

And my husband had been arrested under the Forcible Conversion Act three years earlier, and that gave us a lot of restrictions in travel. And he was still having hearings every three months. And now this? I don't understand, God." In times like this, I felt a little bit like Melody in her father's lap. I went to my room. I turned to the scriptures for my answers. I found things like, "I am the potter. You are the clay." And I'm like, "Yes, Lord. I just want to be that pliable piece of clay.

And my ways are higher than your ways." Matthew's little song kept coming back. I found so many scriptures that spoke of for his glory. And I began to realize that everything the Lord allows in my life ultimately will bring glory back to him. There were many days and months that I felt carried.

I also remember one day when it felt like the Lord was saying, "You need to learn to walk again." And I took that to mean you need to go back to your consistent, regular Bible reading and not just expect to open the Word, and I'll show you. One day, God gave me a picture of how he sent his only son down here to this earth where he suffered rejection, privation, and such a cruel death.

Then he said, "I chose your son for a free place here in glory where he will never have a temptation to stray away." I learned to say, "Thank you, Jesus. Thank you. My son is safe, eternally safe. Truly, his ways are higher than mine, much, much higher. His thoughts are wiser than mine, much, much wiser. His strength is greater than mine, much, much greater. Thank you." Thank you, ladies. That was a tremendous blessing. Thank each of you for and bless you for your vulnerability and sharing.

And I know that God will use this all in amazing ways for many years after this. So we bless you for that. So we're going to open up the time now for some questions. If you have a question for Laura or Gina or Delphine particularly, feel free to ask them personally. Or if you just have a broad question, then I can pass it on to one or all of them. So you won't be seen unless you turn on your video. But if you do have a question and are able to turn on your video, we would love to see your face.

So go ahead and share questions if anyone has them or inspirations or something you want to share. There's a couple of things that I thought about while others may be thinking. I'll share them that I was blessed that I don't even remember which of you necessarily brought all these out, but the fact that God is sovereign and what a beautiful thing it is to humbly lean into that.

And I just can imagine going through the kind of grief that you all have faced, that this is a question that some of us said men came up with that maybe we'll ask again a little later, but that you can start thinking about is how have these experiences changed your views of God or shaped them to what they are today? Because it seems like things like you've faced can cause a lot of struggle in your view of God. If God is good, then why does such and such happen? And why does he make his children grieve and cry?

And anyway, that's a question that some of us had also in relation to eternity, how this has changed shape to your views of eternity. So those are a couple of things that you can think about too. And also the practical aspect that I believe it was you brought out, Gina, that God does not—I mean, he has miracles, but he does not go against the laws that he's created. And I thought that was so interesting. We're just human.

And while he knows our humanity and understands us better than anyone because he's created us, I just find that so beautiful that how gently he leads us and he cares about our humanity and he knows that. And I thought that was beautiful that we can trust God even in—we can do our best, but leaving the rest to him is, I think, such a tremendous walk of faith. So is there anyone else that has any questions or something to share?

I would just like to comment on what I think both Gina and Laura mentioned at that acceptance, just accepting what the Lord brings to us is truly one of the best ways to be able to grow and to deal with the grief, trying to push it away. I mean, and I want to say too that happens with time. Time. And it takes sometimes a lot of processing and a lot of struggle to get there. But acceptance with joy, knowing that God has a plan in mind. I just wanted to highlight that. So we have a question that came in.

It says, "I have struggled with grief since a dear friend passed away. I really miss her and often wonder why. I have accepted it, but I still miss her. How can this change? And how can I help others who grieve?" So whichever one of you wants to start with answering that, go ahead. And whoever else of you can share as well. Maybe I'll ask you, Gina. I don't remember how many years you said it was since your husband passed away. She's asking—we'll just start with you, Gina.

And if Laura and Delphine want to share, you're welcome to. "I miss her and I wonder why her friend has passed. How can this change?" Maybe in other words, how will she stop missing her so much? And then also, how can she help others who grieve? Yeah, that's a good question. I'm not sure of the answers. But so it's been five and a half years since my husband's been gone. And yeah, we still miss him. I don't know. It's different in the way it was five years ago.

But when someone is really close to you, I think depending on your relationship and your love for that person, I think you'll continue to miss them. You want them to be part of your life. And that's not necessarily wrong. It's part of the relationship you have that you wish they were a part of their life, that you were still part of their lives. So for me, it's just acknowledging that there are some ways I will probably always wish Ed were still here. And that's okay. That's right and good and to be expected.

But in other ways, we do move into life. That doesn't have to cripple us or—how should I say it? In other words, that we don't have to be consumed by that thought moment by moment. We can move on and heal in some ways. But I don't think we'll ever quit missing people that we deeply love. Maybe the other ladies have something to share. Well, I can just say that for me, it really is a lot about time. It just takes time. And so many times I think, "But would I really want to forget them?

Would I really want to not miss them?" Just this morning, I told the other panelists that I just wished for a hug from my mom. It's 40 years. So I think it is just time. And God is such a—he's a provider of comfort for us. I remember after Matthew died. And then after a while, it's like, "Oh, a month went or this week went around, and I didn't necessarily think of it." And then I almost felt guilty.

And then after that, it was like maybe a month went around and, "Oh, I didn't—oh." And you almost at first feel guilty. But the thing is, it's the process of grief. And like you said, Laura, with time, there is healing. It's almost like I've already thought about it like as major surgery. Major surgery takes time to heal. And you'll always have that scar to remind you, right? But sorry, I do this. I always do this because I had carpal tunnel surgery and I have a scar.

And anyway, yeah, I've often used that to tell people. That's a bit of an analogy of how grief and death is of a loved one. So I think it's perfectly normal to miss. And it's a good thing. And it's okay. Sometimes we just need to know it's okay. Thank you for sharing that. I have another comment that came in. It says, "I love what everyone said. I don't remember who said it. But give yourself grace, and it's okay to not be okay.

And just because you're grieving doesn't make you less of a Christian." That has been a lot of learning and growing for me since I lost my dad a year and nine months ago just after I turned 18. Learning to move on with life, even though the pain may start to go away, doesn't mean you don't miss them. So thank you for sharing. Very encouraging.

So I actually had another question that popped up in my mind when you were speaking, Gina, but I think this would pertain to all of you, is how do you—okay, Jesus told the story of the man that said or the—I can't remember now how it was. All these brothers died. And in the end, who's going to be her husband in eternity? And I'm curious, how does that—if we aren't—which I don't know, my theology, maybe my theology is wrong.

But in eternity, if we're not family and married and all these things, I'm wondering how that helps you cope with it or how does that feel for you in looking into that or knowing that? Gina, I'll start with you being that you were speaking and I thought of you. Yeah, that's an interesting question because we often say things like, "Well, you'll see him in heaven again, and you'll be with your loved one in heaven." And I don't know.

I don't know how that works because it is pretty clear that there's not marriage in heaven. And so, yeah, I can't think about it too long because our mind just starts spinning because we don't know what eternity looks like. And I believe heaven will be wonderful. And we're not going to have the same kind of relationships we do here on earth. But I think it'll be better. What that looks like, I don't know.

But I think it can be easy if you have a good marriage relationship on earth to hope that you can continue that in all eternity or something. But I'm not sure that's what the scripture says. Yeah, I don't know. I'm not a theologian. Well, we often actually—I mean, I don't know if we can joke about this, but it is so true in our family because my dad is now married for the third time. And so I've had two stepmothers. And we've talked about this. How does that work in heaven?

But I do know the Bible does say too that we will know as we are known. And so I just leave that to God. To me, it's just probably, like you said, Gina, just above even what we can imagine. And I believe the relationships will be wonderful no matter how. And there will be no jealousy. There will be nothing evil in that. I know that when Melody had her vision of heaven, one other thing that she saw was that Matthew was going like this.

He was saying, "Come to her." And that's beautiful to think about, our loved ones longing for us to come. How that'll all be, I don't know, like you said, but it'll be glorious. We know it'll be glorious. Thank you for that. Yeah, that's helpful. And I think that we're so human. And it reminded me of that reading a book about a—it was a near-death experience, which I don't know if you've ever read any of those. And I don't know how that all is exactly, but credible everything is.

But it's just interesting that we're so human. And God knows that. And we can just trust that. But yeah, I was curious how that looked to you all. Is there anyone else that wants to share anything? Sorry. That's okay. Thank you so much for sharing to all three of you. One thing that I am impressed by is just the hope that we as Christians have. And like you were just saying, we don't exactly know what it's going to be like. But the Bible talks about we don't sorrow as those that have no hope. We do have hope.

And I heard that coming through from all three of you, and I really appreciated that. A question I have, all three of you would have walked with your children through this. And what does that look like? And it's not something that I've had to deal with. But yet, I think that there's things that I could learn from you just in learning how to hear what my children are feeling. So I'd love to hear from all of you. What did that look like for you? And what are some of the things that you learned through that?

And Laura, maybe you want to start with that one. Well, I guess I was on both sides. I've walked with my children, and I've been the child. But I just think that it's so hard to understand as an adult if you can just somehow get into their heads. Just think if you can think like a child because they don't have all the baggage and stuff that we would have.

They have such a simple faith and a simple hope and a simple trust that I think that I could even for myself see in my griefs as an adult, even how I related to them was so different than I related as a child. And I just think just—and I think to be honest with them. I just remember Dad being very honest and open. And he gave us time. And he gave us a lot of space to grieve. And it's just I don't think we should gloss it over, but don't give them more than they can handle.

And as far as being with your child, that one is—I don't know. I'm still doing it because it hasn't been very long. But it's really hard to watch your child grieve. But he is an adult. It's not like he's in a child. So it might be a little bit different. Well, I don't know if I have any answers. And I feel like I'm living it right now. So maybe I can come back in 15 years and give you answers. Well, I know that it was very, very hard to watch my youngest daughter. She was two.

And the morning that Matthew—no, the afternoon Matthew died in the evening. But that afternoon, he had taken Mercy with their little red trike. And he was teaching her how to ride her trike. He'd say, "Now this foot, now this foot, now this," teaching her to pedal. And of course, she was only two. And so she couldn't process, like, "What did this all mean?" Here, he wouldn't respond to her anymore, like laying there on the table that time.

And anyway, it was about three weeks that she didn't eat and not well, not properly. And that was her way of grieving. But just to be there and just to comfort and to care. My other son, I have a son, Jared. And his way of grieving was not the healthy way. He did not want to talk about it. And we struggle with that to this day. And I feel like in the intense grief that we carried and felt, we probably didn't relate to his grief as well as we should have or in a proper way. Yeah.

So I think, Laura, it's beautiful how your father could just guide you like that and help you to just—yeah, because emotions can be guilt. I don't know. I feel like even today, maybe Jared's feeling—I don't know what he's feeling. But there's so many emotions that I was like, "How does the devil just makes people that are sorrowing?" He just throws so much stuff at them. And just to help us to walk through that, like you said, having a good concept of who God is. God didn't change. He's still a good God.

Look, he's giving us a sunrise every morning. We still have life. We still have a life to live. And just to be—I guess just to be there to feel for them and support them the best you can. Thank you for that. There's also a question that came in here on how to give practical help to someone who is grieving. So maybe that's—I think all of you touched on that in different ways on how people around you fit into your grief story. But yeah, what are some of the things that really blessed you through that time?

And maybe it's—yeah, was there one certain person, or was there a close group, or there's differences on how well you know someone too? But what would you say to that question? And Delphine, why don't you start on that one? Well, like I said, the community stepped in, and they had no schedule. I mean, it was just, I guess, the Lord. I felt like it was ravens bringing meals, just three meals a day. We literally didn't cook that week. That was such a blessing. So yes, food. Take food. That's always a blessing.

When you have grief, your mind can't process what your needs are. So other people need to be there to help you with that. I remember, yeah, and simple things. I heard of someone here maybe going in and polishing the shoes for everybody for the funeral or just making sure there's extra blankets if it's cold at the graveside or rain umbrellas in case of rain. Or there's so many small details that any of us can do to make it easier and to acknowledge that.

I know that there were different ways that people reached out to us in India. I remember one of the—James worked at the Holy Cross Hospital. And one of the sisters there, she was working in another area. And she actually invited us one day to just come and take a break. And they had animals there. And they had—it was just a quiet reprieve from the city where we lived. And that was really nice. So just I'm talking about maybe a couple of weeks later, something that you could think of the family in a special way.

Don't forget them right after the funeral. That's so important. There's so much going on. And then all of a sudden, everyone else's life goes back to normal. But what about us? And so think of things you just drop in the flowers two weeks later on the day or something like that. There's so many things you can think of doing to help to lighten the load. Well, I'll just mention two things that I appreciated. One was when people would share memories of Ed.

Some people would even write it down and mail it to me, put it in a card. And that was something that was very meaningful and continued to be meaningful later when I could actually comprehend and think about or reread it. And another thing is when people would invite us to do things with them, especially because I had children, just inviting us over for an evening or for Sunday lunch. Or yeah, sometimes I didn't have the energy to plan anything.

So it was really nice, but continues to be nice when people invite us to do things with their family. My brother actually has—we have went on family vacation with their family, which not that that's something that everyone can do, but it's been a huge blessing to us. Again, it's something that would be harder for me to do alone with my children, but it's something that has been a blessing to our family. Well, I might just mention a couple of things too. I think that, again, it's so different. People are different.

But as a child, of course, the things that really meant the most to me was that my peers would just treat me normally. Just treat me like I'm the same person I was before my mom passed away. I remember feeling that very much. And I do have one friend. Of course, I was only 13 years old. And I had a friend that was—we were just very close. And we continue to be to this day. But she has remembered that anniversary for 40 years every single year. And that's amazing to me.

But I think it must have impacted her really much as well. So remember anniversaries. That's something that has meant a lot to me over the years. And also, one thing that I just think about with more of my recent griefs is just if you know this person, if it's a friend of yours, you know what she enjoys doing, maybe just show up and tell her, "We're going to do this today," even though she maybe can't think about the fact that she would like to do this, but in a normal time, she would.

And it helps get them out of maybe depression. It can really help their state of mind to just have friends that will show up. And yeah, the other things are good too. I agree with Gina and. Thank you for sharing about that. We'll go back to the questions that I mentioned earlier. And I feel like some of you touched on these things already, but how have these experiences shaped or changed your view of God and eternity? And I feel like these are probably very big questions.

So feel free to share as briefly as you desire. But yeah, I would love to know this. And this was a question that some of us admin talked about sharing with you all. So we'll start with you, Laura, if you don't mind, or if you have anything to add other than what you shared in your talk. Yeah, I think it does bring eternity to be really real. I do remember being at one of the funerals of somebody. I don't remember out in the graveyard.

And I remember telling my friend, I just kind of took my hand and I said, "Here's my family. They're all here." And I thought about that. No, they aren't all here. They actually are in heaven. And I think it does make you have a longing for heaven in a different way. And we think in terms of years here, like, "Oh, I have to live my whole life without my sister or my mom." And yeah, I think it does. It does just shape how you feel about eternity.

I do think that the acceptance part of grief was maybe easier for me as a child than the griefs that I face as an adult. I think they get a little more complicated. And also, I have found as you experience more griefs, it becomes complicated because you're missing also the ones in your first grief. Okay, did that make sense? It just feels like it makes it harder. And so I've actually struggled more with maybe God's goodness and just why did he do this even with some of my adult griefs than maybe I did as a child?

Well, I feel like through my experience with Matthew's death, I feel like one of the biggest lessons the Lord taught me was how faithful he is and how that he is able to carry and care for me in any situation. Yeah, God is my refuge and strength, a very present help in time of trouble. That was another little psalm that Matthew had memorized. And I think about that often. And yeah, I feel like this experience has definitely shown me how big and how able my heavenly Father is to carry me through.

And heaven is definitely close to my heart and very real. I do have another question that came in here on the chat. Says, "I am more of a private griever. I would prefer to just grieve alone. Is that healthy? And if not, how can I change? I would be more prone to grieve with friends than with my mom, which is not, which I'm sure is something I should change in. I would love to get some advice. Also, thank you for taking the time, ladies, for sharing.

I really appreciate it." And she goes on to say, "I feel kind of embarrassed to show my emotions. I don't know, especially with my family. Maybe I'm just an overthinker about how they would think of me." So Gina, why don't you take that one first? Well, I can totally relate. I am not a public crier. And I don't like to show emotions in front of people unless I feel really safe and it's maybe one person. And I think it's okay.

I mean, there is a point that it's not okay to continually box up grief and not deal with it. But I do think we're all different. And we will interact with grief in different ways. And we don't have to feel like we have to follow some kind of checklist to be normal or proper or, yeah, dealing with it okay. But if there's no one you can talk to, if you've never expressed your emotion or never continually boxing it up, then there probably is maybe something you need to change.

And maybe you do need to find a safe place or a mentor or a sister that you can share deeply with because we do need to work through emotions. But I don't think it has to look the same for all of us. We women are good at comparing ourselves with other people and wondering if we're okay, if we do things differently. But we're all different. But I would love to hear what the rest of you have to share. Well, I think you will deal with it no matter if you're that kind of a griefer or an outfront griever.

I probably was the other extreme where everyone saw my feelings. But I do know I think that it's so important that you—more important than what you show—is just that you allow yourself to enter the sadness because it's the only way to heal, to begin healing. I know that sounds really sad, but I found that to be true because if you cannot—someday you will deal with the sadness if you don't allow yourself now. And I agree with Gina. Find somebody that you trust.

I think it is important because they can have a different perspective. And they can maybe even help you out of your—yeah, if you have any feelings of depression or anything like that, friends can help with that if you have someone you trust. I know sometimes it is hard with your family to be real. So I don't know. Those are my few thoughts. I was just thinking about it too, how in the question it was especially with my mom. And I'm guessing that a part of that is because mom is also grieving.

And it's really, really hard because we all grieve in such unique ways because we're unique people, right? And so, I mean, I totally understand that. And I think it's not something that you have to feel like that's abnormal. But I do feel like confronting the sorrow, like you mentioned, Laura, is extremely important. I remember for me, one of the things that I found extremely hard to do—I used to go into the hospital a lot to visit. And I found it very, very difficult to walk by the casualty room.

I wanted with all my heart to go every other way, but not that way. And for me, it was like, "Okay, you just have to do it." And the oftener I did it, the easier it became. But I mean, it may sound like a silly little thing, but it's just those things that bring us the deepest pain to walk away and avoid them is not healthy grieving, but to actually be able to confront, feel the pain, and cry if you need to. And then you know what? The healing is going to happen layer by layer, deeper and deeper.

I have a question here. I have a friend that's messaging me. Anyway, she said one of you mentioned that to trust God, that he will restore your broken heart. And her question, she's struggling with dealing with a lot of griefs that I don't think she feels like she's processed in a lot of ways. And she's dealt with those griefs separate from the church group that she's in right now. And she feels like no one understands her. She actually was having physical consequences and depression.

And she feels like she's not processing this well. She's been too hard on herself for it. But it doesn't seem like she has anyone to go to for help, or she feels like she doesn't. And she's wondering, "How do you trust God that he will restore you if you feel like he is angry with you and it just feels like she should not approach an angry God?" So I don't know that any of you have personally had that experience yourself, but I'm wondering what you'd say. And maybe we'll start with you, Delphine.

Well, I would probably recommend to do what Gina did. Go through the scriptures and find out who is God. Who is he? Is he really an angry God? Start in the Gospels. Oh, I love to read the Gospels too because that shows who Jesus is, how he related to things, issues to people, to people that tried to do him harm and people that didn't understand him. Yeah. I would say try to understand who is God for number one. I think I can actually relate to that a little bit.

After my sister's death, that would have been just three years before our son was kidnapped. And then my grandson died so quickly after. We had three very traumatic events in a very short time. And I had some of those very same questions. And I went down into—I'm not—I never, ever—I've always been a very upbeat person. And I've always come back out. And I've always just felt the love of God. And I never felt like I was a depressed-type person, but I saw a darkness that I never had seen before. And it is so real.

And to just have feelings of, "Who are you, God?" And I mean, even feelings of angry at God for who he was. So I can identify just a little bit, I think. But what was very helpful to me, I did three things. First of all, I went through the book of 1 Peter, and I wrote down who God is, which Delphine, you kind of mentioned that. Who God is, that was a recommendation of a book that I had read. And the second thing I did was I actually went and got some help. I actually went and talked to a counselor.

And she was very helpful in directing my wrong thinking about God and my wrong thinking about even maybe what you take upon yourself that isn't yours to carry. And then I also just checked out my physical, made sure that I was physically okay. I did those three things. And God was so faithful. He brought me out of that darkness. So bless you in that. It's a hard place to be. I don't want to skip over you, Gina, if you have something you'd like to say to that. Oh, I feel like the other two ladies shared well.

Good advice. So I have nothing more to add. But that's a hard journey. Bless you on that. Thank you for that. So does anyone else have any questions or comments before we close? I think we were going to maybe do some book recommendations sometime. Oh, yes. Thank you for remembering that. So yeah, go ahead. We can start with you, Laura. I think you talked about it. You go ahead and share whichever one, whatever you have. Well, I do love books, first of all.

But there are some books that I really did find extremely helpful. Maybe I'll start with a child's book since I was a child. This book, Tear Soup, is an excellent book. And I would say it's an adult book written from a child. I don't even know how to say it. It is for children, but it blesses an adult very, very much. Yes, Tear Soup. I very much recommend that book. It is a very good book. Probably my most favorite book.

And I know that my family would agree with me on this one, but my favorite grief book is A Grace Disguised by what's his name? Jerry Sitzer. It's just a really good book about, I think, he lost his wife and, yeah, some other family members in a car accident. And he does a really good job of talking about how a soul grows through loss. This book is a little bit heavier. But if you like heavier reading, I really liked this one, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy, Discovering the Grace of Lament. It's really, really good.

And then I have two more recent books that I just discovered. This one, I think I talked about in my talk, Life Can Be Good Again by Lisa Apello. It's very, very good. It's about putting your world back together after it falls apart. I think her husband died very suddenly. It's a very good book. And this one isn't exactly a grief book, but I think it maybe is more along the line of infertility. But it's really good for maybe those that have had infant loss or struggled with things like that.

Every bitter thing is sweet by Sarah Haggerty. Sorry, that was more than one. Well, Laura shared several of my favorites too. So that means I don't have to repeat myself or repeat her. But two that she didn't mention: Beyond the Darkness by Clarissa Mull. It's a newer book that I really appreciated. It's a widow about my age with children, about the ages of my children. So I could really relate to her experience. And Elizabeth Elliott has written a lot about suffering. This one is Suffering Is Never For Nothing.

I read it the month that Ed died. So it has a special place in my heart. I don't really have anything to add except that my very favorite allegory is Heinz Feet in High Places. I don't know how many of you are familiar with that one by Hannah Hernard. That's applicable to any stage in life and especially in sorrow and suffering. Okay. Thank you so much for sharing those. So I'm going to make a couple of announcements here now. I'm going to introduce the talk that we'll be sharing in January.

We're asking Marlene Knisely to share on January 4th on Living Well in an Urban Setting. Having grown up in rural Pennsylvania and now living in Brooklyn, New York, for nearly 25 years, Marlene will talk about the call and the challenge to live well as followers of Jesus with specific focus on an urban setting. We all will be very much looking forward to that. And I also want to announce a special sale on the Strength to Strength Books website.

They are offering 10% off their books through December and free shipping over $45. And I'm imagining the free shipping is probably only in the US, Lynelle. I'm not sure on that. It might apply to Canada because we are shipping in Canada from Canada. Okay. Then yeah. I should have double-checked that. I never thought of that till I was reading it, whether that was Canada or just US. So with that said, we are going to ask Delphine to lead us in a prayer before we close.

And Delphine, if you wouldn't mind, I'm not going to share her name, but the sister that I spoke about that asked the question about God, an angry God. And maybe we could especially remember her if you don't mind. But yeah, close us in prayer, please. Heavenly Father, we come to you this afternoon. We want to just thank you that you are a Father that cares for your children. You love us, and you help us to walk this journey of life. We thank you that you are our Creator.

And we thank you that you came to be the Son of Man. You walked on this earth, and you understand the sorrows and the sufferings that happen here in this world. Lord, there's so much because of the curse. There's so much sin and so much evil, and there's so much sorrow and so much pain. But we thank you, Lord, that you felt it all when you walked here. You understand. We just thank you, and we just praise you.

Father, thank you that you care and understand the heart of the lady who is feeling that you are an angry God. Father, could you make yourself real to her? I pray that you would just show your tenderness. Let your presence be real. We pray that your love would fill her heart and that she could just feel cherished and valued and also help her to find healing in her pain and grief. We pray for any who have listened in today who are struggling through the throes of grief and loss and sorrow.

Father, walk with them, support them, uphold them, and heal, Lord, as time goes along. We just praise you and thank you again for your goodness and your love and your mercy in Jesus' worthy name. Amen. Thank you for that, Delphine. All of this reminds me, it's been one of my favorite things to learn, and I feel like it was life-changing for me. In the struggle, I'm very much a producer, get things done, feel like I need to produce a lot kind of person.

Anyway, and I feel like one of the most life-transforming things for me to learn was that a perfect heart is a surrendered heart. And I feel like you've all shown that in a beautiful way. So with that encouragement, we'll say goodbye to all of you. Thanks again, sisters, and God bless you as you go on from here. Walk worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing him, being fruitful in every good work.