As I was driving down the street that day, my worship music was playing as usual, and I sang along in the privacy of my car. Then, the song "I'll Praise You in the Storm" by Casting Crowns came on. It had always been one of my favorite songs for praising God through life's challenges, a reminder of the difficult times I’d overcome. But today felt different.
“I was sure by now, God, You would have reached down and wiped our tears away. Come in to save the day. But once again, I say amen, and it’s still raining.”
I started to sing but had to stop. Tears welled up, and that familiar sting of pain crept in. God, You could have ‘saved the day’ and healed Jessica, I thought. But You didn’t.
Music and singing praises to God have always been the language that has ministered to me during my sorrows and celebrated with me in times of joy. However, my daughter's journey with cancer changed my "song." Her diagnosis and treatment journey brought many challenges, and I found it hard to sing words that I didn't "mean" anymore. It left me without joy, without a voice, and without a song.
This truth became even more profound after Jessica passed away. She was my shining light, my baby girl, and my dearest friend. Now she was gone, and the void she left was overwhelming. I couldn’t even bring myself to listen to praise music. My heart felt empty—void of strength, joy, and purpose. The song that had once filled my soul was nowhere to be found.
The days following Jessica’s passing were a blur, and I know it was God who carried me through those weeks. My mind was flooded with a million thoughts amidst the tears. I once believed that when a loved one who was a believer passed away, their family’s grief might be lessened because of the assurance that their loved one was in heaven. But I’ve come to realize how unrealistic that thought was. While I knew Jessica was healed and whole in heaven, the grief was still overwhelming—and it remains with me to this day.
In those early days, one thing that helped keep me afloat was the presence of friends who sat with me. They called, texted, prayed, and checked in on me regularly. Some would sit quietly, saying little, but their presence spoke volumes. It’s so important to lean on the people who are willing to be "with" you in any way they can. Some friends will be there for just a short season, offering support in the immediate aftermath. But then there are the rare gems who stay with you for the long haul. These are the friends you can talk to about your child as often as you need—the ones you can reach out to, day or night, whether it’s to cry, ask for prayers, or seek anything else you need. They were my lifeline during those raw weeks of sorrow.
One day, a couple of months following Jessica’s death, I was at a church event with friends. I sat quietly, listening to the worship music with my eyes closed. I didn’t sing along, but the words reached me: “You’re the breath in our lungs, so we pour out our praise to You.” At that moment, an image came to mind—maybe it was a dream I suddenly remembered, or perhaps it was a vision. What I do know is that I saw my daughter clearly in my heart. She patted her chest with her right hand and smiled, saying, “See, Mom, I can breathe now. I’m good!” Then, she danced away with joy. Just as unexpectedly as the vision appeared, it was gone, but its impact stayed with me.
However you may want to explain it, I believe God gave me a glimpse through His curtain and spoke to me that day. Jessica was safe in His arms, and the comfort of that experience ignited a healing process for the song in my heart that day.
"I waited patiently for the LORD to help me, and He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along." He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what He has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the LORD." Psalm 40:1-3
God had awakened in me a desire to truly listen to words of praise in song again. Music began to minister to my soul once more. At times, there were still moments of tears, but with the prayers of those standing in the gap, and as my relationship with the Lord healed, my voice and my song, once lost, eventually returned.
That day in the car was one of those "moments of tears"—a poignant reminder of the deep loss of my sweet Jessica. The words of the song triggered my grief, but triggers can come in many forms: a picture, a scene on TV, or even a post on Facebook. Then there are the moments when grief appears out of nowhere, like an unexpected line in a worship song. I’m learning to embrace these tears. Painful as they may be, they stand as a testament to the immense love I still carry for my daughter, even though I can no longer share that love with her directly.
Am I thankful that she is no longer suffering? Yes, of course. Am I thankful that she is truly healed and whole with Jesus? Yes, I am. Is God still good? Yes, He was, is, and will continue to be.
It may sound like a platitude to some while grieving, but it truly wasn't and still isn't for me. I will never understand (this side of heaven) why the Lord brought Jessica home. I recognize that I need to trust Him in ALL things, no matter what, and some days, I confess that it is still a bit of a struggle. I want to trust his panoramic view of purposes on this earth, keeping eternity in mind, even when I can't make sense of it.
Does this make it any less painful? Honestly, I'm not sure, but God continues to be my Comforter in my pain, doubts, and sorrows. "He has (truly) given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to (my) our God. To praise Him in the storms of my life.
Isaiah 41:10: "Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Don't be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.
Reflection: What about you? In your grief, are you able to receive comfort from and praise God, or does He seem cold and distant to you? Cry out to Him! Share exactly how you feel, even if it seems harsh. I learned that our God has really broad shoulders and can handle our raw emotions.
