Healing after Losing a Child

Have you had a major injury before? While I’ve had several sports injuries over the years—a sprained ankle, stress fracture in my leg, an elbow contusion—I’ve thankfully managed to avoid anything serious. After both small and large injuries, people have to go through a healing process. The bigger the injury, the more serious and lengthy the time that it takes to heal. Stroke victims go to occupational therapy for months to relearn basic functions. Athletes with major knee surgeries spend months rehabbing to get on the field. Physical injuries require an intentional healing process to restore the body’s functions.

After a major emotional loss, like losing a child, the sufferer needs to engage in a process of healing also. One major challenge with an emotional injury is that it can’t be seen or scanned with medical technology. Walking with crutches visibly reminds everyone that someone has sustained an injury and is on the road to recovery. For those who have been afflicted with a deep trial, there is no visible cue or reminder. Yet the wound remains just as long, and usually far longer than a physical injury.

How can a person heal after a major emotional loss? It’s a question that I’ve faced head-on after my wife and I had two miscarriages and then had a stillborn baby. In another post, I wrote about the shock of losing our boy, Zion, and gave three anchors we held tightly to in those early days. After the initial wave of chaos and life has resumed, the new normal sets in. And it is terribly disorienting. Like a slow-moving fog that engulfs the soul, the realization of what has happened gradually sinks in, weighing one’s heart down with heavy grief. Trying to pick up the pieces of life feels totally overwhelming and, at times, downright impossible.

Many times, I wondered, “Will this pain ever go away?” At this point, it has been two and a half years since we lost Zion. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about him or look at his picture. Yet, what the Lord has taught me is this: While the pain of losing a child never fully goes away, God can heal your heart over time.

This healing process will take a long time, longer than you think it should take, and likely far longer than other people think it should take. God does not move quickly when He pours His comforts into a soul. Jehovah Rapha will heal your broken heart, but only as you take His medicine. Resentment, giving God the silent treatment, or allowing despair to control you will only prolong the agony of grief.

What does this healing process look like? While the following is not an exhaustive list, here are three actions that will help you put one foot in front of the other on the road to recovery.¹

1. Persevere in the means of grace.

The “means of grace” simply refers to those places and habits where God ministers to us, such as reading the Bible, worshiping at your local church, prayer, meditating on God’s promises, feeding your soul with Christian music, and sharing your burdens with a compassionate friend. Affliction can cause us to shy away from these things when we really need them more than ever.

It will be awkward going back to church for the first time; but you need to see God and worship him to heal. The long you take before going back to worship, the harder it will be.

The Bible may feel strange and foreign to you, but you have an opportunity to read it with fresh eyes. The experience of loss will give you new insights into Jesus’ character. He is “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Is. 53:3). Jesus doesn’t push away the hurting, but tenderly attends to their needs (Matt. 12:20, Heb. 2:17-18). You can run to Him over and over again.

Other people can also help. Though they may not know what to say, grieving will be easier if one or a few friends help you. It will be hard to talk about your child, about the loss, and about what you feel. You probably won’t be able to talk about your child without tears for a long time. That’s ok. Lean on others in the valley of the shadow of death. They can’t fix the problem, but they can support you with their prayers and encouragement.

2. Lament from a humble posture.

I didn’t know what lament was until we lost our son, but it became a spiritual lifeline for me. Lament is a type of prayer that expresses to God the heartaches and complaints of the soul to process these challenges, heal from the hurts, and increase one’s trust in the Lord.

In his book, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy, Mark Vroegop defines lament as, “A prayer in pain that leads to trust.” (28) He identifies four parts to a prayer of lament.

Turn to God in prayer, because He is the only source of comfort.

Complain to God humbly. Complaint is a means to an end, not the end itself. It allows you to be fully transparent with the Lord about your hurts.

Ask God the hard questions, things like “Why?” and “How long?” You don’t ask these hard questions because an answer will be forthcoming; you ask the why to let God shift your focus to the who. Choose to trust God. You will not feel like praising God or trusting Him, but this is the destination lament leads to. “Trust is believing what you know to be true even though the facts of suffering might call that belief into question.” (Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy, 77)²

Each time you lament, you add another brick to the tower of faith. One occasion of lamenting will not completely fortify one’s faith for the rest of one’s life. Like any other spiritual discipline, its effect of lament takes hold through persistent, patient practice.

3. Prioritize your family.

Grief drains you, and the emotional heaviness makes you tired. In the aftermath of a loss, it may be wise to “circle the wagons” for a time and pare down the extracurriculars you normally do so that you can focus on your family. Get extra rest, and practice much patience.

In your grief, you can’t forget that your wife has also lost a child. Brother, your wife needs you. She must be your priority, even though you don’t have any more answers than she does. She needs your emotional support and loving attention. Chip in around the house more to take something off her plate. She especially needs you to listen well to her so that she can process her grief. Know your wife; she’s different from you, and how she grieves may look different from you. I found that when I shared what I had on my heart, it was much easier for her to share what was going on in her heart.

If you have other children, they also need you. Younger children won’t know how to express the sadness in their heart, and older children and teens may feel quite uncomfortable with the whole situation. You can draw that out through gentle conversations. Even when you don’t understand and when you’re hurting, you have an opportunity to show your children how a godly dad turns to God.

And sometimes your children will minister to you, like when one of my sons said, “Dad, I wish Jesus was here to raise Zion from the dead.” How precious it was to hear a 6-year-old express child-like faith in Jesus.

Conclusion

The night of grief seems to last forever, but dawn is coming. Lament your way to hope; keep going back to the well of comfort in Scripture and the local church. Over time, the room will stop spinning and the emotional nausea will diminish, and you’ll realize that Jesus has been there, holding you close every day.