There are moments that divide our lives into “before” and “after.” For me, that moment came on a scorching July evening during the Carr Fire, when my firstborn son Jeremy, a decorated firefighter, laid down his life protecting his crew.
The Call No Mother Wants to Receive
It started with a vacation. Jeremy had just called on my birthday to let me know they were heading out. He put his kids on the phone – those precious last words that would become treasured memories. A week later, the call came that he was missing.
At first, I wasn’t worried. Jeremy had always played on the edge, always come back. This was the boy who at 14 had disappeared for six months, teaching me my first deep lessons about trusting God in the dark. “He always comes back,” I told his wife. But this time was different.
Raw Conversations with God
Let me be honest – there are things people don’t tell you about losing a child. They don’t tell you how death’s permanence feels like a weight you can’t shake. They don’t tell you how well-meaning people will say the most unhelpful things (please don’t compare the loss of my son to your dog – I have two dogs, I get it, but it’s not the same).
But here’s what I need you to know: God did not take my son.
This wasn’t some divine plan where heaven needed another angel. That morning after Jeremy passed, I woke up sobbing and had it out with God. “You didn’t take him from me, did you?” I asked. “No,” He replied. And in that raw moment of grief, this truth became my anchor: God doesn’t need our loved ones in heaven. He placed us here to bring His kingdom to earth.
Finding Hope in the Details
Sometimes hope comes in unexpected details. The coroner told me Jeremy wasn’t burned – he died on impact from blunt force trauma. Five years later, when I visited the site with his brother, we found something remarkable: while everything around was scorched, there was a 4×6 foot area where the trees were only burned to about four feet high. That’s where they found Jeremy, untouched by the flames that consumed everything else.
These aren’t just coincidences to me. They’re love notes from a Father who grieves with us, who doesn’t cause our tragedies but walks with us through them.
What No One Tells You About Grief
Here’s what I’ve learned about walking through loss:
- Presence matters more than words
- Sometimes a hand on your shoulder says more than any words could
- You don’t need people to fix it; you need them to sit with you in it
- Self-care isn’t selfish
- Isolation is death to healing
- Like a plant needs water, your soul needs connection to grow through grief
- It’s okay to have it out with God
- Your anger, questions, and pain don’t scare Him
- Real healing starts with real honesty
- Remembering is powerful
- Remember who you are
- Remember who God is
- Use these memories as anchors when grief tries to sweep you away
When the Waves Still Hit
Six years later, the grief still surprises me. This year, I was having an emotionally rough day and couldn’t figure out why – until I looked at the date. It was the anniversary of Jeremy’s passing. The waves still come, but they don’t drown me anymore.
A Message for the Grieving Heart
If you’re walking through loss right now, especially the unthinkable loss of a child, I want you to know something: This pain is not your permanent address. Joy can come again, not because the loss gets smaller, but because your capacity for life grows larger.
Don’t let anyone rush your grief or tell you how to feel. But also don’t let this tragedy terminate your future. There is so much more life to live, and living it fully honors the ones we’ve lost.
An Invitation to Remember Together
At Redeeming Her, we believe in creating space for real stories, hard questions, and authentic healing. If you’re carrying grief today, know that you’re not alone. We’re here to remember with you, cry with you, and hope with you.
Because sometimes the bravest thing we can do is remember – remember who we are, remember who God is, and remember that even in our deepest pain, we’re never alone.
With hope and authenticity, Deborah
Comments