by Susie Brown, as told on the Story Partners Podcast
Nine months after receiving Christ, I was so happy. Then one normal day everything changed.
Cycles of Pain and a Devastating Loss
I was the youngest of four girls. No one in our family knew the Lord. My dad was an angry, abusive alcoholic. He drank every day, but never missed work unless he was in jail for drunk driving. Growing up at home was not a safe place. I really, really did hate my dad. Getting married and moving away, I thought I was free of his effect on my life, but I was not.
Foolishly, all four of us girls drank and married drinking men. I saw how my sisters’ marriages were turning out and thought, “Well, this might not turn out so well either.” I sort of made a vow to myself, getting married, that I would not stay in a bad marriage.
When I was 20, my 28-year-old sister took her life and her three children with her—a 4-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a 1-and-a-half-year-old. That was devastating to our family. It was in the newspaper: triple murder-suicide, “survived by” with all of our names. We were devastated. I was just always wondering where she would be in eternity, where she and the children were. Not having a Christian background and not getting Christian counseling, I had no idea.
From the Brink of Divorce to a New Faith
We had been married for probably seven years, and I was near divorce. I was very, very unhappy in my marriage. My friend said, “Would you like to go to this lunch? It’s really fun. I went last year with my neighbor.”
I said, “Well, she invited you; she didn’t invite me.”
She goes, “Oh yeah, they want everybody to come. They’ll invite people off the street.”
I thought, “Oh, really?”
She said, “We don’t have to bring anything; they’ll provide all the food, they have a special speaker, and it’s going to be fun.” So I went.
My friend did not continue to go to the Bible study, but her friend asked me, “Would any of those [studies] sound good to you?”
I said, “Yeah, the one about learning to love God, learning to love others, and learning to love yourself—that sounded pretty good to me.” But I told her I didn’t have a car because we just had one, and my husband takes it to work.
She said, “Well, I’ll pick you up every week.”
I thought, “Wow, really? I just met you.”
I had been having Jehovah’s Witnesses knocking at my door, and I had been studying with them. Of course, they don’t believe that Jesus is God come in the flesh. I kept questioning this young woman [from the Bible study]. I’m sure she went to the older women every evening after Bible study and said, “I can’t convince this woman that Jesus is God come in the flesh.” She would come back with a new way or a new scripture.
But then the Lord led me to John 14, where Jesus said, “I’m going away to prepare a place for you… where I am, you can be also. You know where I’m going.” One of the disciples said, “We don’t know where you’re going, how do we know the way?” and He said, “I’m the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Then Phillip says, “Show us the Father, and it’ll be enough for us.” Jesus says, “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father. How can you say ‘show us the Father’? Have I been with you so long and still you don’t know me?”
That was when I realized that Jesus was God come in the flesh. With just a little “Four Spiritual Laws” booklet at home, I prayed to receive Jesus as my Lord and Savior. He began to transform my life. Even though I had been thinking of divorce, it was out of the question then.
Giving Thanks
My four-year-old, Deanna, had had an ear infection that week. When I got to my life group, we were having snacks, and I was telling some of the other ladies, “Oh, Deanna had an ear infection this week, but she’s fine now, she’s on antibiotics. I didn’t get sleep one night, but she’s fine now.”
So when we got to Ephesians 5:20 in the Bible study part, there were about 15 of us in the room. Bob gets to Ephesians 5:20 and he reads it: “Always giving thanks for all things.” Then he looks straight at me and he says, “Susie, did you give thanks for Deanna’s ear infection this week?”
I said, “No.”
And he said, “Well, Ephesians 5:20…” and he read it again: “Always giving thanks for all things.” He just went on.
I thought, “Well, that’s weird. I don’t go around doing that. I don’t slam my finger in the door and say, ‘Thank you, Jesus.'” I thought that was weird and didn’t make any sense to me, but the Holy Spirit brought that back to mind when I really, really needed it.
The Day My Daughter Died
Nine months after receiving Christ—seven months for my husband—we were so excited about knowing Jesus. We were so happy.
One day, a normal day, my 5-year-old was out playing with neighbor kids. Her little sister, who was 2-and-a-half, was in the house with me. All of a sudden, I realized I didn’t hear Deanna. I looked around the house and couldn’t find her. I went out front where my daughter was playing, and she wasn’t there. I went to the backyard. We had a pool, and it was fenced off from the sliding glass doors. I didn’t even look in the pool—she couldn’t be in the pool, we have a fence there. When I was going back into the house, in my peripheral vision, I saw something floating in the pool.
It was terrifying. I couldn’t believe it. I leapt over that 4-foot fence. I don’t know how—I just grabbed the top of that fence, and I was over. It was just terror. I got her out of the pool, and I tried to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I’d seen it once on TV, but I didn’t really know how to do it. Her lunch was coming out of her nose. I couldn’t get back into the house because all the doors were locked, so I was screaming and screaming. I ran to my neighbor’s house; she heard me screaming before I got to her door, and she called 911.
They worked on her for at least an hour and then took her to the hospital emergency room. Tim came home, and the neighbors told him where we were. We were just praying and praying, asking the Lord to spare her life—and He didn’t. Thankfully, there was a Christian nurse there. She knelt down with us, and she prayed for us. They finally said, “There are no brain waves; we need to just let her go.”
The doctor gave us each a sleeping pill. We got home, got our 5-year-old from the neighbor, and we were crying. We couldn’t stop crying.
We finally got her to bed, and I told my husband, “I keep asking the Lord to tell me something that’s going to help, and all I hear is ‘Give thanks.'” He just looked at me like he didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense. But he didn’t even comment on it.
He said, “Let’s just take these pills and go to bed.”
We called our home group leader and told him what happened. He offered to come over, but my husband said, “No, we’re going to take these pills and go to bed.”
Peace That Should Not Have Been Possible
The next morning, I woke up and thought I’d had a nightmare that Deanna died. The more I woke up, I remembered—no, she really died. The pain was excruciating. It was a physical heart pain, a physical heartache. Every joint in our body ached from just being so tense. It was so much worse than when my sister died. I loved my sister, I loved her children… how could the pain be worse? But it was. It was my child.
I told Tim again, “I keep asking the Lord to tell me something that’s going to help.” I was just a baby in Christ, but I’d memorized some verses. “I can’t think of one, but all I hear is ‘Give thanks.'”
Tim said, “Well, sure, there are lots of scriptures that talk about giving thanks, but not for this. Not in this situation. It’s out of context.” I agreed. The Lord would not ask us to do that; I thought that would be cruel for Him to ask us to do that. So we didn’t.
We went out to the edge of town to get alone. It was cold in Phoenix in March, so we sat in the car just sobbing, reading the scriptures. One of the scriptures he had us look up was about Job and the part where all ten of his children died at one time. I don’t know that I’d recommend that for everyone in that moment, but the Lord knew that was a good one for us because immediately I said, “I’m so, so thankful that both of our children didn’t die.” Then I thought, “Oh, there’s that word: thankful.”
We’re sobbing the whole time. Then we went to another verse in Colossians about setting your mind on things above where Christ is seated. We thought, “Oh yeah, that’s where Deanna is.” We have the hope and certainty that we will see her again someday. She’s not lost because I know where she is.
At one point, I said, “I don’t think we’ve done what the Lord’s told us to do in giving thanks.”
Tim said, “Well, let’s look up the scriptures.”
Searching The Scriptures
In our Bible, we had a little concordance in the back. Under “Thanksgiving,” it had two verses: 1 Thessalonians 5:18 (“In all things give thanks, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus”) and Ephesians 5:20 (“Always giving thanks for all things”). We said, “Oh, we can’t do that. We can’t do Ephesians 5, but we can do Thessalonians.”
So we started giving thanks for everything we felt thankful for: “Thank you that we know you. Thank you that we have you to walk through this with us. Thank you that we know where Deanna is. Thank you that we’ll see her again.” It didn’t touch the pain. It didn’t touch the pain. We were still just sobbing, and the physical heartache remained.
We sat there a little bit longer, and I said, “I still don’t think we’ve done what the Lord’s telling us to do.”
Tim said, “It’s out of context,” so he looked up Ephesians 5:20 again. We read the verses before it, the verses after it, and the whole of chapter 5. You can’t make it say anything different. It doesn’t make sense, but you can’t make it say anything different.
So he said a prayer. He said, “Okay, Lord, we do not know why you want us to do this. It doesn’t make any sense to us. We do not feel thankful for Deanna’s death, but because it seems like you’re telling us to do this, we thank you for Deanna’s death and pray that someday you’ll help us to bear this pain.” There was unbelief in our prayer. Like, “Not today, Lord. You can’t do anything about it today, the day after she died.” I was hoping He would bring the pain down to the level of when my sister died. But to take it away? Oh no, there’s no way. We’d never heard of anything like that. I’d have more easily believed He could heal me of cancer than that kind of emotional heartache.
And He gave us a peace that surpasses all understanding. A peace that, humanly, there’s no way you should have in that situation. We just sat there stunned. I said, “The pain’s gone,” and Tim said, “Me too.” We had been sobbing uncontrollably—ugly cry, ugly, ugly cry—and the pain was gone. Then I said, “I even have a peace,” and Tim said, “Me too.” Then I said, “I even have a joy,” and he said, “Me too.” We just sat there stunned. I said, “I didn’t want to feel as bad as I did, but I don’t think this is right. What will people think?”
Tim said, “God has given us this for a reason, and we’re not going to throw it back in His face and say ‘No thanks.'”
“She’s Not There”
So we drove back home. Most of our life group was there at the house. We told them what the Lord had done the day after—the day the Lord healed us from that excruciating emotional pain.
The next day was the graveside service. We wanted that part to be over quickly because she was already with Jesus. But that morning, I started thinking, “Oh, I wish I didn’t have to go and see that little box. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to handle that.” It was normal anxiety, not the excruciating pain.
I told Tim I couldn’t get out of the car. Bob, our life group leader, said, “Let’s pray.”
I had a box of tissues, and I thought, “I don’t think this is going to be enough.”
Bob prayed for us, and when I stepped out of the car, I heard the Lord say, “She’s not there, she’s with Me.” That peace flooded over me. Every one of those tissues was used—but not by me. I had the peace that surpassed all comprehension.
After the service, we went to a friend’s house. Tim went with the men, and I sat with the women, and with the Peace of Christ, we told them the whole story. Tim’s parents wanted to come immediately. We told them the Lord had healed us and asked if they could come in two weeks instead. They were very concerned, thinking we were in shock. His brother, who is a pastor, thought the same: “When the shock wears off, they’re going to be in really bad shape.” But it never wore off because it wasn’t shock. The Lord had healed us.
Even though He healed us, I still felt guilt. I’m the mom; I’m supposed to be protecting her. I asked the Lord for forgiveness for failing to protect her, and He did—He bore our guilt and shame on the cross. My husband never blamed me, which is uncommon. Usually, even a good marriage doesn’t survive that. If we had not known Christ, our marriage would not have survived.
Joy Over Bitterness
The week before Tim’s parents were coming, Tim wanted to get the yard ready. I was sitting on the edge of the pool, scrubbing tile. It was quiet. The little “whips” in the pool were moving around, and they drew my attention into the water. I started thinking about finding Deanna and doing mouth-to-mouth. I started sobbing so hard—the kind of cry where your face is puffy and red. My eyes were closed, and I felt a little shake on my shoulders, and I heard, “Stop that.”
I opened my eyes, and there was no one there. I heard, “This is self-pity. Do what you did before.” It was the Lord.
If a person had come out there and shaken my shoulder and said, “Stop that, this is self-pity,” I probably would have slapped them. But because there was no one there that I could see, I knew it was the Lord. He gave me a knowing: if you stay here in self-pity, you’ll be bitter. You won’t be any good to your 5-year-old or your husband. This is destructive. He showed me there’s a fine line between healthy grief and self-pity. So I got up, went into the house, and through tears, I started reading the last few Psalms because they are all about praising the Lord. I started giving thanks again, and the peace came back.
I still cry because I miss her. Sometimes I’d feel on the verge of tears—going to a baby shower or seeing a toddler. I would “plan a cry.” I’d wait until my daughter was at kindergarten and Tim was at work, and I would get out her pictures and just sob because I missed her. But it wasn’t that excruciating pain. It was just healthy grief.
I’m 76 years old. Just three months ago, I said, “Where would I be without you, Jesus?” It flooded in on me. I would be a bitter old lady without Jesus. Deanna would have died, I would have been divorced, I was a drinker—I probably would have turned to alcohol or married another drinker. I may have taken my life like my sister.
If I lived to be 76, I would be a bitter old lady without Jesus. And I’m not.
I have the joy of the Lord.
