I was driving to work when the darkness closed in on me again. That morning's commute was particularly bad. I was cocooned in gloom. I was facing depression for the first time in my life, which was bewildering to family and friends who'd always known me as sunny and upbeat. But the darkness was unrelenting and I feared I would be swallowed up and dragged down. Thoughts of suicide had even started to cross my mind. If I didn't do something soon, the grief would eventually overwhelm me.

Shattered Dreams
When your dreams come true, dreams you believe God planned especially for you, life brings contentment. But how do you face life when those same dreams come crashing down? How do you hold it together?

Darrell and I came from Salvation Army families living in neighbouring towns in Newfoundland. We were married in 1981 and owned and operated his family's trucking business. The call to become Salvation Army pastors was strong in both of us, however, and in 1989, we sold our business and went into full-time ministry, serving in British Columbia and Ontario. We were the proud parents of two boys and were very involved in ministry, our parish and our community. Life seemed complete.

But in early 2005, Darrell was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma and, despite a brave struggle, it was only a matter of time before the end. Darrell asked to spend his last days with his family and the hospital granted his request. Those final few days, we talked about our lives, our relationship and the love we would always have for each other. Surrounded by his children and the wife who loved him, Darrell slipped away on October 13, 2005, six months after the initial diagnosis.

Overwhelmed by Despair
After three years of courtship and 24 years of marriage, I was separated from the one who'd loved me deeply. During Darrell's illness, my emotions had ranged from anger and rage to doubt and hurt. Lord, I thought, Darrell is too young to die. It didn't make any sense. Why had God taken Darrell? I prayed from the depth of my being, Lord, I can't face this without You.

Family and friends wanted to know when I would be over my loss so that life could return to “normal.” But life would never be normal again.

“I want myself back,” I remember saying to my grief counsellor. “I want the happy-go-lucky June who enjoyed life to the fullest.”

I realized in time that I would never be the same person I was. I am—and forever will be—changed.

Fortunately, in my grief, The Salvation Army helped me to cope by transferring me to areas with less direct pastoral responsibility. But even with the support of my family, friends and colleagues, I was often overwhelmed by despair.

And it was on my way to work that day when the darkness enveloped me again.

Decision to Live
This time, however, the CD player was on and a song by Brian Doerksen entitled Today started to play. I listened to the lyrics:

Today I choose to follow You,
Today I choose to give my “yes” to You,
Today I choose to hear Your voice and live,
Today I choose to follow You.

As the tears streamed down my face, I knew without a doubt that God was speaking to me clearly.

“June, you have a choice,” He seemed to be saying. “You can either follow Me through the journey of grief or become embittered forever.” I didn't know what the journey would look like but I knew God would be with me.

At that moment, a deep awareness came to my heart, that when the Lord holds me close to Him here on earth, He is also holding Darrell in Heaven.

Darrell's favourite Bible passage was Romans 14:7-8: “For we do not live to ourselves alone and we do not die to ourselves alone. If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.”

Because Darrell and I both belong to God, a connection remains at the spiritual level and we will never lose touch with one another. It was a life-changing realization.

Mourning Into Dancing
The past five years have been filled with the deepest pain I've ever known. But if I hadn't faced that raw pain of grief, I wouldn't have healed.

God has deeply blessed my life with a support system of caring people. My family as well as the members
of my church congregation consistently reached out and refused to let me withdraw into isolation. My children took me to Newfoundland, where we spent four wonderful weeks with friends and family. And The Salvation Army transferred me to its national headquarters in Toronto, where I became part of a larger support system.

God has used many individuals to hold me together.

My faith in God is stronger because of my family and my faith community. And my healing has been more thorough because of their support.

My journey isn't finished. God continues to hold it all together. I can't imagine one minute without Him in my life.

The Bible tells us that God will turn our “mourning into dancing.” I may not be dancing yet, but the music is a little louder than it used to be.