Finding Strength in Grief

by Dayle Towes

October 12, 1982 marks the day when I thought my heart would stop and the world would come to an end.

It turns out that my heart didn’t stop (though it may have skipped a few beats), and the world didn’t come to an end. But it was the end to my perception of my world and my family’s future. This was the day that my husband and I learned that our two sons both had Fragile X syndrome, a genetic disorder that causes intellectual disability and often symptoms associated with Autism.

I later learned that it was me, no less, who was the carrier of this Fragile X gene. The doctors handed us the diagnosis of this unknown condition without a guidebook or instructions. We had no idea, yet we knew we had to move forward.

All I could think of that day and days to come was, “Why, God? Why would you let this happen to me, to us? “

Was I angry and resentful towards God? Yes. I argued with God asking, “Are you telling me, that the boys’ disability is supposed to help make the world be a better place to live? “Were they created this way to help me be more accepting of others?” (Although I didn’t think God made people suffer just to teach them a lesson). My boys know they are different and sometimes act in ways they don’t always want to, which is hard on them. Why would God allow this? Were they were born to be this way. Is this what a loving God intended?

Apparently so.

In Psalm 139, the psalmist says, “He knit us together in our mother’s womb and knows all our days before the world was created.”

In the book of Job, Job says, “What? Shall we receive good at the hand of God and shall we not receive evil?”

Life isn’t easy and isn’t supposed to be easy. Life is a continued learning experience and sometimes events occur without explanation or clarity as to what the lesson is. If God sees the beginning from the end, He surely sees what hope is stolen from us when life challenges like mine on October 12, 1989. Surely, God must grieve.

Upon receiving the news from the doctors, the notion of “forgiving God” seemed ridiculous, even offensive to me. I had to confront how a loving God could allow so much pain and suffering. I had a hard time of letting go of the illusion that I would have “typical” children. I struggled to let go of the image of what I thought life ought to give me.

However, with time, God does heal the hurt, but first, I needed to reconcile myself to God, which meant becoming friends with Him. You see, I’d always been in awe of God, respected Him, and acknowledged Him as God my spiritual Father. But I hadn’t considered God as my companion and friend. In coming to terms with the truth that suffering exists in the world, I realized that I must expect it, accept it, and find God’s companionship through it. Faith is giving up this illusion of what I thought “it should have been.” I pray that I can continue to let go of what isn’t, and hold on to what is.

Isaiah says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

God promises that in the end, it will turn out ok. God promises that even if the world tears us apart, God is the winner. All my troubles are trumped by the power and promise of Christ. I don’t think God furthers an agenda of pain for the good but will work for good through the tragedies.

The main thing is that I had a choice, and still do every day—either to have a bitter view of life, or to treasure what I had and to have a fresh new outlook on life. God gives me a peace that passes understanding. This peace comes to all who live as people of love, look at what they have as a blessing, and pass blessings on to the next person.

God is my strength through grief and struggle. Perhaps reaching this point means I have “forgiven” God?

Chris Fabry, in his book, Dogwood, said this about life: “Basically life is a dance through a field full of cow manure. Most people won’t even go into the field; they go around it and pretend. Or they try to tiptoe here and there and stay close to the fence. They need see that the fertilizer creates beautiful flowers and some of the greenest grass you’ll ever see.” Put on your hip boots and waltz through the cow pies.”

With God’s help, I pray I can do this.