This post doesn’t have words of wisdom but simply thoughts from experience. I am no expert on grief. Honestly, I didn’t truly understand it in its intensity until I lost my husband, Eric. Head knowledge and heart knowledge are two very distinctive things. I could see it and grasp it, but to have someone ripped from your life in an instant is grief like no other.
Several months ago, Eric and I had a conversation about grief. I presented the question about why Jewish people in the Old Testament would often wear sackcloth and cover themselves in ashes. I knew it was symbolic of grieving but wondered why they physically practiced it. We had a short conversation about it, but like most of our conversations we went on to another topic (probably kid related). I have revisited these thoughts in the past few weeks. Although some of the rituals in the Old Testament aren’t practiced today, I can now, not only see the significance of that grieving process, I can relate to it.
The day after Eric’s death I watched the sun come up. My eyes were swollen and covered in fresh and deep-rooted tears. I had little energy to even look up at it. I yelled at the sun that morning. I asked it why it could even rise on such a horrific day. I asked God why He could allow the sun to come up and not allow my husband to be up with it. The God who creates all things, who raises and sets the sun and demands the moon and stars to shine, how could He not take away Eric’s depression and his pain? Why couldn’t He save him from death? I know He was there with him that evening. He never left his side. These feelings—this cycle– went on for days. I would watch the sun rise and be angry that it shone so bright. My pain was too great to bear. The hardest concept to comprehend was how the God that I continue to question is the same God that gives me peace and strength for each new day. Though this concept will most likely always circle in my mind, I must choose to stand on faith and believe that God redeems what He allows.
As I studied about sackcloth and ashes, I discovered that sackcloth was usually made of black goat’s hair. It was a course potato-sack like material that was very uncomfortable to wear. It was meant to be this way. It was meant to remind the person grieving of the pain of what they were feeling. Ashes represented desolation and ruin. Jewish people would roll around in ashes, wallow in them and cover their heads with them. It was an appropriate symbol of the humility and depression that accompanied grief and distress. We see this when David mourned the death of his son and when Job lost everything in his life.
Although I did not and have not physically put on sackcloth, I feel it emotionally. I am reminded of that pain and discomfort every day. It’s a daily desolation and rawness to know that a part of my life is gone—a daily reminder that the pain runs deep from the loss of a beloved husband and best friend. Losing Eric is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to face. In the midst of the deep sorrow, the busyness of each day, the struggles, and just life in general, I simply miss him being here.
Sudden death, specifically suicide, is the kind of pain that you can’t accept. It’s unpredictable. It is accompanied by so much guilt and emotion. That emotional pain turns to physical pain, to questions, to bargaining, to constant crying, to begging for relief, to sadness, to not understanding, to peace and then all over again when you least expect it. Grief is messy. Losing a part of you is not normal and it’s agonizing. So when people ask how I’m doing, I simply say “I’m here.”
There is no roadmap on grief. In my case, it’s the grief of a suicide. Everyone’s grief is different. Everyone handles it in his or her own way. I choose to take one day at a time. Thankfully I am in a more peaceful place now. It doesn’t mean these feelings don’t come back at times, but it means that I can trust that the God who makes the sun to rise and set, can get me through the day. I’m not mad at the sun anymore. I see it as a reminder to live–to shine—to take the opportunity that I have to make the most out of this life.
I am already seeing God ‘s glory and multiple victories in this dark time. A few days after Eric passed away, a dear friend of his told me that “the blood of Abel will speak (Hebrews 11:4) and that Eric’s life will speak and already has begun to.” I receive messages from people every day. I am thankful for their stories and for their words of encouragement. Two people have shared with me that they have given their lives to Jesus after reading “Eric’s Story” on the blog. At least five people who were contemplating suicide told me that they chose to keep fighting and not to take their lives the day they read it. I am honored to hear hundreds of stories of how Eric’s life (story) has given people hope and motivation to keep fighting. And, while some may talk about how he died, I will talk about who he lived for. His story will live on and, prayerfully, continue to save lives.
I never imagined that my life would be this way, but somehow it is. However, one day I will take off this sackcloth and wash off the ashes that cover me. One day I will see the beauty from this time of suffering and sorrow. If you have had or have now any of these same thoughts, I wish this for you and for me: that through our grief and in our suffering, we will one day proclaim that the sun came up and that God is bringing beauty from the ashes (Isaiah 61:3).
One day…
If you are struggling with thoughts of suicide, PLEASE reach out to someone and continue reaching out. I can guarantee you that you are not alone. We are all broken, and it’s ok. It’s what we do with our brokenness. Stand on truth. “You ARE a person of worth because of what Jesus says, not because of what society labels you.” (Eric Garland) Share your story, keep fighting and do not give up
There are no adequate words, Krissie. Only God’s Love and Strength is sufficient as He comes alongside you in your journey. Know many are holding you, Joah, and Selah up in prayers. ???
Amazing!! Sackcloth and Ashes…
processing the pain until it made some kind of sense, maybe. People were well aware of your grief…no need to put on a “happy face” and be some kind of martyr in your deep grief. I guess after the person had bathed and put on new clothes people close to them could then help them transition into the new normal.
We put way too much pressure on ourselves and others. Grief is important…sharing IN that grief so that many lives are touched and healed is COURAGEOUS ! ❤
You have chosen such a positive way to process your grief that will have eternal significance! When someone leaves your life after 46 years together like my husband Jim….you experience a small inkling of the sackcloth and ashes you have discribed….My prayer for you today is that you will one day have the joy of the Lord as your strength to such a great extent that you and everyone around you will marvel at the amazing things your present suffering and ability to express the process of arising from the pit of unspeakable pain will bless in the lives of those you touch. God bless you as you carry on ……. you are loved and blessed by having such memories and twin blessings as reasons to give you that joy as the pain subsides.
Krissie your words are a constant comfort to me. A year ago my husband passed after 6 months of dialysis and 3 years of kidney disease. Evaluating his mindset at the time, I feel he just gave up in his health struggles. He was my pastor, my husband of 41 years whose purpose was to preach and teach about God’s love. I often question why God gave him this special gift only to take him in his prime of his ministry. I have a sense of peace now but it has taken a year of ‘one day at a time’. It doesn’t mean I miss him any less, I miss my best friend every day. We were both retired so we were constantly together. My prayer for you is that you take your time and continue to remember the blessings of his ministry. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
(Have I mentioned I was at HSU with your parents?) Blessings!
Grief and lose is real real pain. A pain only the Balm of Gilead can touch. I pray for you Crissy. I pray the Balm will wrap your soul totally today and everyday.
We are here also and lifting you and the kids up to the LORD of all creation. You are gifted at putting your thoughts down for the rest of us to read, even feel, and grow from….thank you❤️???
So appreciate your openness and honesty Krissie. God is inspiring you even in this dark time
Krissie …..The power of God’s comfort and healing and redemption comes through loudly as you speak Truth through a broken heart. Praying with you as you rise up out of the ashes and trade your sackcloth for a garment of praise. ❤️❤️❤️❤️
“I would watch the sun rise and be angry that it shone so bright. My pain was too great to bear. The hardest concept to comprehend was how the God that I continue to question is the same God that gives me peace and strength for each new day. Though this concept will most likely always circle in my mind, I must choose to stand on faith and believe that God redeems what He allows.”
Krissie, your words exude honesty, genuine faith, and hope in the One who comforts, but doesn’t always explain. I share your posts because it helps us to pray for you. But your heart and words also minister to many people. Thank you for allowing His love to reach others through your pain. May God continue to comfort you in your deep grief. We love you.
Krissie, your blogs and words, and Eric’s words are such a comfort to me. I look forward to each new blog for the healing they seem to give. Frank and I were married over 66 yrs. and every day with him was such a pleasure. So when the cancer entered his body, he fought it with everything available. Like you, I do not understand why God took Frank. He was the best godly man I have ever known and I would have gladly taken his place. I miss him every single day and I’m just waiting for the rapture so I can enter that glorious heaven too. Keep fighting, Krissie. You are young and can overcome. I’m old and can’t. I have been and will continue to pray for you and I ask you in return if you would pray for me.
Betty, thank you for your honesty. I can only imagine a small portion of what you are going through. I am a part of a grief share group with women older than me who lost their husbands. I can sense their pain form their own stories of loss. Some were married over 50 years and talked about how much they missed their other half. If you think of it, a grief share group may be great for you! It’s a good community of people with similar experience. Nothing ever takes away the pain completely; just the hope that we have through Christ and knowing we will see them again one day!
Sweet Krissie, I marvel at how open and transparent you are. Your words of real emotions are so moving. God is using you and using you to tell your story, Eric’s story and the story of his life. The impact he had on this earth is something that will last forever, in ways you may never know. Thank you for sharing about the sackcloth & ashes. I was able to make sense of the custom and appreciate why it was abused by. The Lord is making beauty from ashes. I am daily praying for you, Joah, Selah and your families. You are loved by so many who cannot even begin to love you as much as the Lord does.
Krissie, thank you soooo much for your response to my post. You truly blessed me by your words and the love I felt when reading them. Yes, I would love to go to the Grief Share Group at PBC but I don’t have transportation to get there. I know it really helps people like I am. God bless you Krissie and may you feel His love, comfort, mercy and grace in the days ahead. ❤️?❤️
Krissie,
Your words are an inspiration. It is truly wonderful how many lives are touched by Eric’s story. My husband passsed away almost 2 yrs ago, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. It is still really hard to live life without him but reading your posts have helped me with my own grief, so Thank You for sharing his story.
Precious Krissie, I wish I could wrap you in my arms and comfort you. Thank you for the blessing of your deepest thoughts. In preparing for a recent lesson I read part of a blog written by Kayla Stoecklein after the suicide of her husband, Andrew. He was a pastor in his early thirties much like your sweet Eric. She quoted Psalm 16:8 from a translation I was not familiar with, The Passion Translation. It said, “Because you [God] are close to me and always available, my confidence will never be shaken, for I experience your wrap-around presence every moment. ” Her take on this passage was “God’s got this!” Even in the midst of her pain she knew God is in control. We know He is big enough to handle our anger and gentle enough to be our comfort. Love and prayers.