Help Me Trust You
August 16, 2025 — Laura House
If you are a bereaved parent, then you’ll relate to my words today. If you aren’t, then I hope that they will help you be a better comforter to a grieving friend.
You see, when someone loses a child, the resulting pain comes from multiple sources.
The forced, unnatural, separation from the sweet child we love seems brutal. It’s not the “natural order of things” for our child to die before we do. Knowing that years will go by without the opportunity to feel their hugs, enjoy a conversation, and hear the sound of their laughter can bring the greatest sorrow and pain a parent can ever know.
The loss of the future is another aspect of a parent’s grief. All of our hopes and dreams depart with them. Depending on the age of the child who dies, there are some differences with this aspect of grief. For us, Nathan was 25 years old when he went on ahead of us. We will never see him meet the girl of his dreams and marry, flourish in the role of daddy, be a doting uncle to Ryan and Megan’s children, build his business into what he worked so hard to create, or watch him grow in his walk with the Lord.
But as I contemplate my individual road of grief, those aren’t what really hurt the most. Regarding those aspects of grief, I’ve come to realize that because of the “fall”, heartache and suffering are an expected part of earthly life. Of course, when Jesus returns, everything will be different! But until then, there will be pain. Understanding that my earthly life is short and that I can choose to allow God to use my pain and suffering to mold and shape me has made all the difference in my experience of the grief described above. And Nathan certainly isn’t “missing” those things that I listed. He is where I can’t wait to be — with Jesus!
Interestingly, I’ve realized that my greatest pain comes from another aspect of grief.
As parents, we are the ones who fix things for our children. Whether it’s the boo-boos when they are little, or the painful moments of childhood, adolescence, and adulthood, it is a privilege to guide them through. We grieve with them when they grieve and desperately try to “make it all better.” We are always there to pick them up, help mend a broken heart, cheer them on, challenge them to be all that they can be, strive to instill character, and defend them whenever needed (aka “Mama Bear”).
I’ll admit that I was/am a “fixer” to the hilt; perhaps to a fault. I love to see my children happy, joyful, flourishing, and not in pain. Determinedly, I tried to flood their childhoods with joyful moments to create happy memories and to soften the harsh blows that earthly life affords.
But Nathan became ill and I couldn’t fix it.
In my early years of loss, I often allowed my mind to wander back through the years of pain that Nathan suffered, and what he “must have felt”, and the grief was excruciating. Undoubtedly, the carefully placed sutures in my wounded heart would all break free. Do you ever go there? Did your child suffer treatments for their illness, pain from the accident, horrible consequences from someone else’s actions, or some other type of pain? Do you let yourself contemplate what they may have felt and thought?
But as I tried to put myself in Nathan’s shoes, a not-so-subtle voice would chide me and I knew I was wrong.
You need to trust Me.
Didn’t you constantly pray that I would comfort Nathan? That I would hold him?
Laura, I did! And not only that, but He is with Me, and fully healed.
Trust Me.
If you’ve read my posts, you’ve seen me share the following words before; but for me, they were life-changing — or I guess you could say, “grief-changing.”
After searching, struggling, and lamenting, I finally grasped the truth that as deeply as I love Nathan, God loves him infinitely more! I had the privilege of carrying him and raising him, but I didn’t create him. His Creator loves him more. I can rest in that fact. Nathan is His.
Now nine years down this road, I rarely go “down the rabbit hole” and I find it so much easier to trust Him and rest in His love. I have had a front-row seat to witness the comfort, faithfulness, and immeasurable love of God. But I’ll admit, there are still moments…and once in a while, but not very often, there comes a day when grief returns, and I have to remind myself of what I know to be true. Honestly, I don’t expect that to change until I am in Heaven, and that’s okay. Grief is no longer a dreaded surprise, but a reminder of the blessing of Nathan and the depth of my love for him, the reality of earthly life, and the promise of eternity. When grief comes now, I know to run to the One who will continue to pour out His love to me.
When the phone rang on that Saturday morning in March more than nine years ago and I knew that Nathan was gone, I cried out to the Lord; Jesus, help me trust You!
That has often been my prayer and will continue to be. Would you join me today in making that your prayer too? It’s powerful because when we trust Him, our souls are comforted, our minds are strengthened, and we can experience an intimacy with God as never before.
Psalm 62:8 — “Trust in Him at all times, O people; Pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.”
Revelation 21:4 “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
