Like a River: Finding the Faith and Strength to Move Forward after Loss and Heartache

by Granger Smith

Soak in this moment because it won’t last forever.

If I had a thousand blisters, I still wouldn’t have felt them over the pain in my heart.

Absolutely nothing can prepare you for that moment. The moment you have to say goodbye to your child. The moment you must leave the hospital with one less person than you arrived with.

It’s a loss, a pain, an ache that is too deep for words.

When grief is really bad, it’s a reflection of a love that was really great. The deeper you love someone, the more you’ll grieve their loss.

I need you to know that loss is a natural part of life. In fact, it’s not a matter of if; it’s a matter of when. And although it’s always painful, I’ve learned two important truths: Pain is not permanent. Pain is not pointless.

Though you can never truly move on from your loss, you can move forward.

I was also grieving over losing our home and its millions of joyful memories that had been swallowed up by one really bad one.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. Isaiah 43:2

For instance, none of us go to a funeral because it makes us feel happy; we go because it’s important. It matters.

In that numbing moment, with our hands laid on our precious boy, Amber looked at me with such intensity, such clarity, and said something so confidently that it caught me off guard: “I want to donate his organs.” Then she began to softly cry again, “His little body is perfect, flawless. It’s only his brain that’s damaged. Surely there are people in the world who could use this tragedy as their miracle.” Later, after some clarity on the moment, Amber admitted that those words must have been God-breathed and not her own intuition.

Why does social media enthrall us so much? Don’t we know from my story and countless others that it’s all a lie? We only post things the way we want everyone else to perceive it. Sure, it can be lined in truth, but we still pick only the best photo with the best lighting from our best side. We edit the caption and then edit it again until it reads exactly like what we hope everyone believes about us.

THE TRUTH IS, EVERYONE IS HURTING FROM SOMETHING—EVEN THE PEOPLE YOU THINK HAVE IT ALL TOGETHER.

To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived; This is to have succeeded.2

He paid $1,100 for it in 1996, and you would’ve thought that he had brought home a Porsche

Dad could impress a high-level Exxon executive at a suit-and-tie dinner and also wind up becoming friends with the janitor in the bathroom of the restaurant. Everybody liked him. It didn’t matter what your social status was, he could engage and find common ground with everyone.

He was colorfully woven into the fabric of that town.

We beg for healing today. But if You don’t heal this boy on earth, heal the hearts of this family.

I’m just one beggar telling another beggar where I found bread.

After that, I understood that whatever happened was going to happen and that everything that happens from here on out is part of a greater purpose that is always laced with meaning.

Man can plant the seed, but only God grows the tree.

What we learned was that grief and joy can beautifully coexist.

Don’t allow me to covet the things of this earth, I prayed.

“Looking back on the memory of the dance we shared beneath the stars above.” It was Garth Brooks’s “The Dance.” The doctors reached for the tiny body and wrapped their hands around him as the song continued: “And now I’m glad I didn’t know the way it all would end, the way it all would go. Our lives are better left to chance. I could’ve missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss . . . the dance.”8

I could’ve missed the pain, but I would have had to miss our gift, our answered prayer, our Maverick.

Consider this. If we never lost any of the gifts of life, how could we really understand how precious they are? How could we possibly know about the brilliance of light if there were no darkness to contrast it?

There is such healing in letting go. It breathes new life into every aspect of life. When I let go of River, God gave us Maverick. When I let go of my forever home, God directed my steps to a new, amazing little farm. When I let go of music, it stopped feeling like a job and started to feel like a ministry opportunity. When I let go of the old vision for my family, God opened the door for a new family construct. When I stopped trying to hold on to my own plans for my life, I realized God’s plans were far better.

I’ve heard so many people say something like, “I’m embarrassed to tell you that I’m hurting, because you’ve lost a son, and that loss is much worse than losing my grandpa.” I reject that idea. If you are hurting from the grief of losing a loved one, then you are totally validated in that feeling. Your story is relevant to your life. Pain is pain. It’s not something that can be compared. The relationship you had with your grandpa is real. I can never relate to that because I didn’t live it and I didn’t love him; you did.