I Am Too Sad to Live

10:46:00 AM




Yesterday I found these key search words in my stats: “I am too sad to live”.

Someone with a very heavy heart found my blog by typing in these six painful words.  I would never have known of her visit if I hadn’t for some reason clicked on my stats button. I wonder if that grieving person found anything of help. 

I wish I could help.

"I am too sad to live." I think about these words. Can you imagine being that sad? Anyone that’s grieved over the loss of a child will understand. I have felt too sad to live.

One day after I’d sat by the side of Thomas’ grave, letting my grief pour from deep within me in huge noisy sobs, I drove home feeling too sad to live. As I bumped along the country road, I let the unthinkable enter my mind: what if I turned the steering wheel sharply to the left and let the van roll off the road, down the hill, through the fence and into the paddock?

But as quickly as I had this thought, another took its place: What would death mean for me?  Would God take pity on my suffering state and save me?  Even if He did, I wouldn’t find myself instantly in Heaven. I wouldn’t be reunited at once with Thomas. My pain would continue. And so I kept on driving along that country road.

I was so sad after Thomas died (sad is such an inadequate word). I wondered why I didn’t die of a broken heart. At the very least, I expected to wake up one morning and find my hair had turned white overnight. But my body betrayed me. It showed no signs of my internal agony.

How does grief feel? How does it feel to be too sad to live? I had a constant huge throbbing pain in my chest that never let me forget, even for one moment, that I’d lost my son. No medicine can take away that kind of pain. My world shrank until it consisted only of this suffering, or was my suffering so immense that it filled the entire world? All I know was that nothing outside my pain was of any importance. 

My thoughts were consumed with my baby and his death, and I asked over and over: Why? How will I survive? Only God had the answers so He also occupied my thoughts.

One day I realised something significant: everything that happens to me, happens because God allows it. It all must work towards my good and be part of His plan for my life… even if I can’t see it. I was so tired of begging for my situation to be changed, for the sorrow to be lifted. I gave in and said, “God you know how I’m feeling. You are allowing me to feel this way. I will try and accept it.”

I remember how fed up I got of riding the roller coaster of emotions: having hope one day that things were getting better, then being plunged down into that deep pit of pain yet again, struggling to resurface and plod on… I wrote: “I am so tired of suffering, though I don’t suppose it will kill me. It just needs to be endured... and that is so very difficult.”

Suffering won’t kill me. Even though I was too sad to live, suffering didn’t kill me. Whether I liked it or not, I had to struggle through that immense sorrow to the other side. I kept praying; I kept trying to accept the pain; I kept hoping…

And God heard my cries and I did survive.

"I am too sad to live." My heart turns over in sorrow for someone else. That old familiar throbbing pain echoes once again in my chest. I pray for that grieving parent. I know there is hope.

Please pray too.

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