The Devastation of Grief

[Anthony Pritchard]

​

On Sun, Aug 21, 2022

Written to a dear Brother in Christ who, twenty‑one years before Linda’s passing, lost his eighteen‑year‑old daughter in a tragic traffic accident. I share it now in the hope that it may comfort others who walk through the valley of grief.

Dear Brother,

Greetings in the holy name of our Lord and our God Jesus Christ (John 20:27).

Though Linda’s death continues to reverberate the agony of grief through my life, I know you understand these depths, for you have suffered in like manner. Yet even under a weight that, without my Lord, would be too heavy to bear, I have never lost my faith in the Only Begotten Son of God. I hold fast to the truth that “our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory” (2 Corinthians 4:17), and that “the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).

As I survey the wasted and destroyed landscape of my present life, above it all I still see Him, the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6). Through Him I have my eternal hope, my only hope. By the witness of the Spirit of God with my spirit (Romans 8:16), I know that I have been born into the family of God, redeemed, bought with a price, and translated into the Kingdom of His dear Son. Many other passages speak of this same Way, each giving a deeper and richer understanding of the matchless richness of our common salvation (Jude 3). Yet I do not believe that in this flesh we can begin to comprehend the magnificent work of salvation. Only when we see Him “face to face” (1 Corinthians 13:12), when faith becomes sight, will we know. And we will be amazed as we fall on our faces before Him.

I have been devastated, but through the unspeakable grace of God, not destroyed. In this great pain, the Word of God taught me that life is a gift, that valleys of deep despair are real, and that only in this life do we have the high honor and privilege of serving Him in the face of adversity. Only here, in the midst of pain and agony, can we prove our love for Him in a way that will never again be possible in eternity. This opportunity is a gift, and it is only for this life. The gifts of God to us are indeed manifold, magnificent, and totally undeserved.

Our marriage, Linda and I, began on the foundation of Jesus Christ. As we drew nearer to God, we drew nearer to each other. It ended still on that foundation. A dear friend painted a picture of that truth as a wedding present, and it remains much treasured to this day.

Many who have lost a beloved spouse have said to me, “I know what you are going through.” I love them for caring enough to try to ease my pain, but such a thing is not possible. They cannot know my grief, even as I cannot fully know theirs.

The Christ‑honoring marriage that Linda and I built upon His foundation was unique to us alone. As snowflakes are many yet no two are the same, each a small and beautiful wonder, so too was the love between Linda and me. One marriage among countless others, yet ours was our own. As fingerprints are exclusive to each person, the unique fingerprints of our love remain imprinted upon our souls, bearing a precious message in a language only we two, and God, can understand. Our marriage is now past, but our love lives on.

Though I had never known such pain was possible, it is not about me. It is not about my sufferings. It is not about Tony at all. It is about Him and His inestimable love for us.

“But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you” (1 Peter 5:10).

To you and your sweet wife, I dearly love you both.

“Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”

~Tony

© A.K. Pritchard 2022 –

Linda Faye Pritchard
October 31, 1953 - April 15, 2021
Child of God
Beloved Wife and Mother​

 

[atpollard]

I am sorry for your loss and your pain.

I have to say that you people are more “spiritual” than I am. I am the oldest of three children and buried two younger brothers. One by suicide to stop his silent pain and the second was murdered by God. [When a series of events cause a minister to go into hypoglycemic shock while driving and u-turn over a median, cross several driveways avoiding the ditch and kill a pedestrian on a sidewalk the buck must stop with Divine Providence.]

At the funeral, someone asked me if I wanted revenge. I thought about it for a moment and answered honestly: “If it would bring Richard back, I would crush the life out of the man with my bare hands. But I don’t want him dead, I want Richard alive. So there is nothing that I want or need from the driver.”

My response was less “Scriptural” and more raw honesty. Sometimes we hurt and sometimes life really sucks. Guess what, it still sucks without God … only then we don’t even have “HOPE”.

 

[Anthony Pritchard]

I am sorry for your loss and your pain.

I have to say that you people are more “spiritual” than I am. I am the oldest of three children and buried two younger brothers. One by suicide to stop his silent pain and the second was murdered by God. [When a series of events cause a minister to go into hypoglycemic shock while driving and u-turn over a median, cross several driveways avoiding the ditch and kill a pedestrian on a sidewalk the buck must stop with Divine Providence.]

At the funeral, someone asked me if I wanted revenge. I thought about it for a moment and answered honestly: “If it would bring Richard back, I would crush the life out of the man with my bare hands. But I don’t want him dead, I want Richard alive. So there is nothing that I want or need from the driver.”

My response was less “Scriptural” and more raw honesty. Sometimes we hurt and sometimes life really sucks. Guess what, it still sucks without God … only then we don’t even have “HOPE”.

Brother, thank you for speaking honestly. Losing one brother is a wound. Losing two is a weight few men could carry without breaking. I cannot pretend to know the depth of what you have lived through, and I will not offer easy answers to something that has torn your life apart.

I do believe, though, that grief can take us in very different directions. Some of us collapse into God because we have nowhere else to go. Others collapse away from Him because the pain feels like betrayal. Both reactions come from the same place: a heart that loved deeply and was wounded deeply.

You said something that struck me: that life still “sucks” without God, only then we don’t even have hope. That is the part I hold onto. Not because it minimizes your loss, but because it tells me you still know where the only hope is found, even if you cannot feel it right now.

I don’t judge your anger. I don’t question your honesty. I only want you to know that the God who bore our griefs and carried our sorrows does not turn away from a broken heart, even when that heart is angry at Him. He is nearer to the crushed in spirit than we ever realize.

I am praying for you, Brother. Not that the pain disappears, but that the God who walks with us in the valley will meet you there in His own time and His own way.

 

[Ascetic X]

I have to say that you people are more “spiritual” than I am. I am the oldest of three children and buried two younger brothers. One by suicide to stop his silent pain and the second was murdered by God. [When a series of events cause a minister to go into hypoglycemic shock while driving and u-turn over a median, cross several driveways avoiding the ditch and kill a pedestrian on a sidewalk the buck must stop with Divine Providence.]

At the funeral, someone asked me if I wanted revenge. I thought about it for a moment and answered honestly: “If it would bring Richard back, I would crush the life out of the man with my bare hands. But I don’t want him dead, I want Richard alive. So there is nothing that I want or need from the driver.”

My response was less “Scriptural” and more raw honesty. Sometimes we hurt and sometimes life really sucks. Guess what, it still sucks without God … only then we don’t even have “HOPE”.

I am sorry for your emotional pain. The death of a loved one, and in your case, two younger brothers, is devastatingly horrible, bizarre and catastrophic. The universe you experience now has a huge gaping void, a wretched hole that will never be filled in this life. Nothing can replace your brothers.

But something you said makes me even sadder. I hope someday, you cease blaming God and stop calling Him a murderer.

Why God allows certain things to happen is a miserable mystery. We must respond with a reverential silence.