Christian Grief: How I Face My Son's Death Without All the Answers
“Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, ‘Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!’” (Mark 9:24 NKJV).
There are some questions that never completely leave us.
For me, one of them is “Why?”
Why did my son die?
Years have passed. I’ve walked with the Lord. I’ve read Scripture. I’ve listened to sermons. I’ve seen God’s faithfulness in countless ways. Yet if I’m honest, I still don’t know why.
Why Does God Allow Bad Things to Happen?
There’s a novel in which a woman wrestles with the age-old problem of suffering. She asks what many of us have wondered: If God gets credit for the good things, doesn’t He also bear responsibility for the painful things? Why do children suffer? Why do innocent people die? Why doesn’t God explain Himself?
Those questions aren’t new. They echo through the pages of Scripture.
Job asked them.
David asked them.
Jeremiah asked them.
And for centuries, grieving parents have whispered them through tears.
What Is Actual Faith? What I’ve Learned Through My Pain and Questions.
For a long time, I thought faith meant getting my emotions and my theology to agree. If I truly believed that the Lord was good, I should not question His plan. If I fully trusted God, I should not feel confusion, sorrow, disappointment, or even moments of doubt.
Over the years, I’ve come to terms with the fact that faith is not the absence of questions. Faith is carrying those questions to God.
My mind believes that God is good. My heart still aches.
My theology tells me that God is sovereign. My emotions still long for answers.
Perhaps genuine faith lives not in certainty about everything, but in trust when certainty is unavailable.
Who God Is, Even When There’s Suffering
God is not distant from our pain. He is not cold, detached, or indifferent. He is the God who looked upon a broken world and entered it. He is the Savior who stood at Lazarus’s tomb and wept.
Jesus knew resurrection was coming. He knew death would not have the final word. Yet He still cried.
Allowing Ourselves to Cry God’s Tears
Sometimes our deepest calling is not to understand suffering but to cry God’s tears. To grieve what He grieves. To mourn the intrusion of sin and death into His creation. To ache over loss. To sit with those who suffer. To refuse easy answers and instead offer compassion.
To admit that I still miss my son. To allow myself to feel the sorrow of that loss without concluding that God has abandoned me.
To trust that the tears I shed are not evidence of weak faith but reminders that this world is not yet what God intends it to be.
An Encouragement to Stay Faithful Until the End
One day, perhaps, all the mysteries will be solved. One day, every tear will be wiped away. One day, I will understand things I cannot understand now.
But until then, I am learning that faith is not having every answer; faith is holding God’s hand when I don’t.
Sometimes, faith is crying God’s tears while waiting for God’s promises and knowing that one day, we’ll get to know “why.”
Social: A question that sits with me, no matter how many years pass, is “why?” Why did my son die? As my faith has grown, I haven’t found the answer. But maybe faith doesn’t come with answers. Maybe it’s learning to grieve as Jesus did, even as we believe that God ultimately has good in store.
Get these articles in your inbox!
—
Cathe Laurie is the founder and director of the Virtue women’s ministry. She is also a featured speaker on The Virtue Podcast, at Harvest events, and the author of As I See It. You can find her weekly articles here on harvest.org.
