An Untamed River

February 8, 2025 — Lisa Thacker

I’ve heard grief perfectly portrayed as a “river of love with nowhere to go.”  But I’ve also experienced grief as a vast raging river of swirling despair ready to engulf me. Can you relate?

The truth is grief is both. It’s important to mark the distinction between the two. Grief is an expression of our love for those we are forced to live without. And the enemy exploits that love to serve as a doorway for his attacks–what he does best.

I’m learning that it’s necessary and even safe for my heart to wade in the river of love at times. But while I’m there, I must fight to avoid being swallowed up by the raging waters of despair. Navigating turbulent currents requires strength well beyond my own.

If you share in the pain of losing a child, then you most likely agree that your suffering reaches beyond existing without them. It’s also about encountering stealthy secondary traumas that  strike when least expected. Chances are you’ve experienced one or more of these gut-wrenching events yourself. Maybe you’ve had to call a company to terminate services that no longer serve a purpose, cancel travel reservations that originally included your beloved child, close inactive bank accounts that were once active and growing, or modify the “number of dependents” on your tax return. It’s nothing less than traumatic to request a table at your favorite restaurant for a party of…..minus one, stare at the empty chair around the dinner table, or peer in the rearview mirror where the car seat once held a vibrant, chatty toddler. The list goes on and on without end. 

Without a doubt, these devastating traumas hijack our stability. They’re demanding, frighteningly real, and must not be ignored. We can’t skirt around them or pretend they don’t break our heart. The application of Christian theology doesn’t render them shiny and beautiful. It’s imperative to declare them as what they are: maddening, repulsive, overwhelming, exhausting, despicable,  infinitely unfair, and tragic.

In a word, out-of-order death is cruel. 

So what can we do to navigate these traumatic experiences when they intensely impact our ability to function?

Nearly five years after losing my 15-year-old son, I still face similar grief ambushes myself. As long as I’m breathing, traumatic memories stored in my body and secondary losses resulting from unlived milestones with Dalton will continue negatively interrupting my life.

I don’t get a choice about the emotions that stir inside of me–which ones or their timing–in light of my loss and trauma. But I do have autonomy in how I process the pain and who I hold responsible for its existence.

Before we go any further, let me be clear. I do not support the belief that grief and trauma can be overcome by simply deciding to “conquer” it. Jesus is the only one who will ever conquer death. Mind over matter doesn’t cut through highly complex and untamed grief. What is true about our grieving souls, however, is that we have the opportunity to be in charge of how we interact with it–who gets to be the boss…grief or ourselves.

I’m slowly learning how to take the reins during my grief attacks with four essential actions–honoring my despicable reality, blaming the right culprit, denying any victory for the evil one, and holding confidence that nothing will be wasted.

What does this look like?

First, I give voice to the awfulness of the missed experiences with Dalton. I acknowledge the deep, abiding emptiness that walks with me daily while I work to re-engage in life. I admit that  rebuilding a different life from the one I wanted is exhausting. These terrifying realities deserve a right to speak. But they can’t be the only voice I listen to.

Father God, This life without Dalton is unfair. I miss our life and despise not getting to make new memories with him

Two, I place full blame for the many beautiful treasures that were snatched from my hands where it is due–on the enemy. Death can only be traced back to one source–the prowling lion whose sole purpose is to steal, kill, and destroy (1 Peter 5:8, John 10:10). It’s essential that I drive a stake in that blame, never letting it free.

Lord, This is all Satan’s fault. Don’t let him ever convince me of anything else.

What happens next is pivotal. I refuse to give the enemy power to lock me in a cell where all I gaze at are the out-of-reach gifts he robbed me of. What does it look like if I give him this privilege? More evil victory–the last thing I want! He already stole way more than he ever should have been afforded. Acknowledging what I lost while experiencing the goodness of the Lord “in the land of the living” is integral to my survival. 

Denying the enemy access to me denies him access to my purpose and meaning, my ability to love, my capacity to guide others to Christ, and my enjoyment of the blessings God so graciously chooses to still provide me. 

Lord, I don’t want Satan to have one more ounce of victory in my life. Give me strength to stand up to him in every situation.

Finally, I ask God not to waste my sorrow. The adversary wants to sideline me, keeping me out of the game, neutralizing my influence for the Kingdom. But my Redeemer promises to use the painful circumstances He allows by stopping at nothing to put me back on the field. The Promise Keeper never breaks His promises (Joshua 21:45). 

Father God, make the enemy pay for every last blessing he stole. Don’t let a single tear go to waste. I know You will redeem my story for your glory because that’s what Your Word says. And I know Your Word is trustworthy.

In full transparency, my anguished heart often forgets how to approach moments of distress. In other words, these actions aren’t always my initial response. I flounder. I freeze. I question. I doubt. I dig in my heels. Let’s face it. Emotions are quite muscular. I have a long way to go. But I remind myself that the goal is never perfection; always progress. The same is true for you.

God understands our weakness against soul-crushing distress (2 Corinthians 12:9). He invites us to face distress with Him (Psalm 46:1). Please know that battling hopelessness with the God of Hope doesn’t turn grief into a cheerful walk in the park. Remember how Jesus confronted his grief? He was exhausted with sorrow. His sweat was “like drops of blood.” In his anguish, he prayed “earnestly” for his Heavenly Father to “take this cup from me” (Luke 22:42-44). Trudging through hopelessness with Jesus provides you a loving, empathetic companion, specifically the One who relates to every last sorrow you’ll ever face.

When your grief feels like a river of love with nowhere to go, I pray that you’ll feel safe in its current, sitting as long as needed shedding tears dripping with love. 

And when your grief feels more like a wild, out-of-control river, I pray that you’ll begin finding courage to take charge of what happens next–little by little, step by step. 

Acknowledge and even visit the swirling river of suffering. Plaster it with a perfectly fitting sign: Cruel, but thankfully NOT THE END.

Refuse to stay in the turbulent waters by reaching for God’s hand.

Prove to Satan that he messed with the wrong child of God.

This won’t be a white-knuckled choice. It will be a steadfast charge against evil. It won’t be a one-and-done decision. It will be a lifelong, anchored-in-Christ determination to put the enemy in his place.

Hold tight, dear friend, to the promise of Isaiah 40:29, “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”

___

More helpful verses:

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” - Psalm 46:1

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. “ -Genesis 50:20

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. “ - John 16:33

“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” - Exodus 14:14

“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” - Hebrews 4:16

“In all their distress he too was distressed, and the angel of his presence saved them. In his love and mercy he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.”- Isaiah 63:9

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” - Joshua 1:9

“Not one of all the Lord’s good promises to Israel failed; every one was fulfilled.” - Joshua 21:45

“‘Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.’ An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.” - Luke 22:42-44

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. “ - 2 Corinthians 12:9


Lisa Thacker

Lisa Thacker is an OHAH facilitator, Dalton's mom, contributing author in Held Through the Storm: Stories of Suicide Loss and Hope in Christ (2024), and blogs at survivingmypastbecauseofmyfuture.blogspot.com. (This post was originally published on Lisa's blog.)

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