When our world shatters with grief, our survival isn’t dependent on having perfect faith, but on taking our fragile faith to God. Daphne Bach Greer shares today about the deep sorrow that compelled a mother’s journey of faith after child loss.
When tragedy strikes and our world is turned upside down, do we fall to our knees? Absolutely we do, for a time. But that’s not where we’re meant to stay. We’re meant to flourish, to be a testimony to others about hope. And while the pain is unbearable and there seems to be no light ahead, it is possible to rise above it, transforming our pain into purpose.
Several people have asked me over the years where do I find my faith? After all I’ve been through, how is it possible to continue living? I can tell you the journey of faith hasn’t always been easy.
I grew up with seeds of faith planted in my young heart, attending church every Sunday, vacation Bible school, and confirmation. However, as I moved through high school and college, I became absorbed with my own life, putting God on a dusty shelf. I always knew God was there, yet I didn’t pay attention to Him. My life was good, and I thought I didn’t need Him.
That is, until the age of 31, when the greatest storm of my life swept me into tragedy and sorrow.
There is no bigger test of faith than when your child dies.
It’s been seventeen years since my five-year-old daughter Lydia passed away in a car accident. Seventeen years I’ve lived with the unfathomable weight of grief. In the early days, every breath was a struggle. Night would find me burying myself under the covers or hiding in my dark closet, clutching my Bible and sobbing uncontrollably.
How does a mom deal with seeing that empty bed, her bright clothes scattered across her room, her Barbies and artwork all over the house? I grappled with why I survived and Lydia didn’t. The guilt was suffocating.
I pleaded with God to take me as the burden was too heavy. Feeling helpless and hopeless, I pondered: why continue on? And how was it even possible?
My soul was beyond tired.
In those early days, I had no choice but to cling to the only hope I had. I had to reconnect with God. My Bible became my best friend because no one could understand the intense suffering I was enduring. Not my mother, father, brother, nor closest friends. It was the one time in my life where I felt completely alone, and it was terrifying.
I had always retained control of everything in life, and suddenly I had none. I had to surrender. For months, I scoured the internet for stories about heaven as I desperately needed to know whether Lydia was all right. I needed proof, or so I thought.
I also longed for someone to tell me it would be okay, that I would survive, that I would enjoy life once again. But no one could. So I turned to scripture.
Through my searching, I discovered a desire to be closer to God, as only He could soothe the debilitating pain. I knew He was my only hope. Psalm 34:18 reassured me: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit.”
My faith provided comfort that nothing else could and His Word was salve to my broken soul. I didn’t know the proper way to read my Bible, but I knew it held those few shimmers of hope I needed. Those verses I held tightly carried me. What did I have to lose? Nothing, because I felt as if I had already lost it all.
I began to pray. I didn’t know how, but I did it my own way—crying, whispering, shouting, pleading. You name it, I did it. I prayed for God’s hand in everything and to get me through one day at a time. I prayed for healing, forgiveness, and wisdom. I prayed for the guilt to subside and for my dear son.
Finding peace that Lydia was resting eternally and present with the Lord brought comfort. Looking back, all I really needed was Him. Our life is not meaningless. He created each of us with a plan and a purpose to fulfill.
Over the years, the pain has transformed. The sharp, piercing anguish slowly turned to a dull ache that became part of me. I am different now. I’ve become a warrior, bearing superhuman strength I never knew possible. The memory of Lydia fuels me to keep moving, to keep her memory alive and let her light shine.
Seventeen years ago, I had no hope. No one could give it to me. However, I found many times at just the right moment, God sent me who I needed, offering encouragement and comfort—chaplains, a therapist, friends, family. They were lights in my darkness, along with the Lord.
I now understand the value of every moment and possess a life-changing perspective. No matter our hardships in life, God doesn’t intend for us to live in a sorrowful state for the rest of our years, but to enjoy life, no matter how hard it may seem, and to spread that hope to others. I began to look at everything through the lens of eternity, and it has changed everything I do.
Our gifts often go undiscovered until rock bottom arrives. We don’t know what we’re made of until we’re tested. But then we discover: we are able, we are strong. Beauty in the ashes, purpose in the pain is real and palpable. We have to seek it daily.
In all things, seek Him first. Having eternal perspective is everything. This is how we move forward. When life gets tough, we stand on those promises. We renew our minds with God’s Word. We use our pain for purpose, paving the way for others. Let the light of God shine through us.
Are there days when I feel weak and shed tears? Absolutely. But I ride those waves of grief, feeling the emotions when they come. The beautiful truth is that we don’t have to navigate this journey alone. People will tell you it gets easier with time. The truth is it doesn’t get easier, we just learn to live with a part of us missing. Over the years, I’ve found it’s not for us to know the whys. But it is our job to trust and receive His peace. He is there and his presence is all around us.
Without faith, we have nothing. This life on earth is so short compared to the eternal life that awaits us. Faith is not based on evidence or proof, but on truth and belief in what you cannot see. What a marvelous gift from God. I’ve felt the deepest pain possible, and I’m a living testimony that God is enough.
The key to surviving in grief is having hope and faith as small as a mustard seed. That’s all it takes. Let God take over. Love with intent, meaning, and purpose. Approach each day with eyes of wonder and gratitude. Keep pressing on and seeking the Lord.
Philippians 4:13 declares: “I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.”
If I can do it with God, so can you.
Daphne Bach Greer is a mother, author, speaker, advocate, and friend to the bereaved. She authored Mending Hearts with Threads of Hope (November 2025), Barely Breathing: Ten Secrets to Surviving Loss of Your Child, and writes at Grieving Gumdrops: The Sweeter Side of Grief. After losing her five-year-old daughter Lydia in a car accident in 2008, she discovered that while grief never ends, God faithfully transforms our hearts, helping us find purpose and hope. Daphne serves on the steering committee for The Compassionate Friends and board of directors for Ellie’s Way. Find Daphne on Facebook or Instagram.
