“Everything good seems far away. I’m emotionally and spiritually paralyzed. I feel dead inside,” Jack shared.
Jack’s daughter Chloe was a daddy’s girl. She clung to Jack wherever he went. He adored her.
Chloe grew up in a stable and loving home. She confronted the usual, daunting challenges teens face and emerged from them fairly unscathed. She married her high school sweetheart. They had three kids, two boys and a girl.
One day Chloe was returning from grocery shopping. A thunderstorm had been raging for hours. Chloe’s car hydroplaned, and she lost control. She was killed in a multi-car pile-up. She was 34.
“Dads protect their daughters, but I couldn’t protect her,” Jack said, gazing into my eyes.
Deep loss can produce spiritual numbness
After the death of a loved one, many report a sort of spiritual numbness or fatigue. Trying to make sense of what appears to be senseless can be spiritually exhausting.
All of us have a faith of some kind, even if it’s not clearly defined. We all believe something about ourselves, life, the world, God, the spiritual realm, and the afterlife. In tough times, most of us either lean heavily on our faith, begin to question it, or both.
The death of someone close to us raises deep questions. We search for answers. Our emotions are varied, complicated, and frustrating. It’s easy to become spiritually frustrated too. We experience overwhelm, and spiritual fatigue sets in.
We engage in our usual spiritual activities, whatever they might be, or perhaps we distance ourselves from them. As with the rest of life, we might find ourselves going through the spiritual motions, but feeling little to nothing. What was once powerfully meaningful can now seem dull, drab, and empty.
We can become spiritually numb. This isn’t necessarily negative, but rather the natural result of having our hearts shattered and experiencing grief overload over a period of time.
Spiritual numbness can protect us. It can provide a much needed break from the intense emotional assault and the incessant search for answers. This numbness can be a valuable spiritual rest stop along the grief highway. For most, it’s a temporary state. We pause there for a while, and then re-engage when we’re ready. We all need rest – not just physical, but spiritual as well.
For some, spiritual numbness can be unnerving and frightening. In most cases, however, this is a natural part of the grief process about which we can say, “This too shall pass.”
“Losing you is spiritually exhausting. I’ll honor you by taking my heart seriously.”
An exercise to try:
Write a letter or poem (you choose to whom, knowing this is a letter you will never send) describing how you sense you are doing spiritually. Are you experiencing spiritual fatigue or numbness? What is that like?
After writing, consider talking with someone about what you wrote – a trusted friend, mentor, minister, counselor, etc. Sharing our grief is important, both for us and others.
Spiritual fatigue and numbness are common for those who have lost a loved one. Most often this is temporary. This too shall pass.
Adapted from the 2017 USA Best Book Awards Finalist and Amazon bestseller, Shattered: Surviving the Loss of a Child.
Question: Have you experienced some spiritual numbness or exhaustion? What was that like for you?
I just finished your book Please Be Patient With Me I’m Grieving…. I lost my 43 year old son just two weeks ago… to cancer… he suffered a lot and fought a really tough battle the past two years…. he leaves behind a 12 year old son and 10 year old daughter…. they live in another state so I rarely see them… we haven’t had his service yet and I’m afraid people are already starting to forget him… I can’t let that happen. I was raised with a very strict father who drilled into me not to dump my burdens on to others… so, I keep most of it inside me and try to deal with it on my own because I don’t want my burdens or grief to become theirs…. I am so heartbroken I can barely breathe at times, I miss him so much…. my faith carries me through each day because I believe he is in heaven happy and healthy…. but still I am so very sad… thank you for your books and for giving me a sense of normalcy… some times I wonder who I am any more and that can be so frightening… everyone says “you are strong and you will get through this in time” but I don’t want to be strong anymore…. a part of me has died…
Hi Shirl. I’m so sorry about your son. What a terrible, tragic loss. And with so much challenge and pain along the way too. Ugh. Yes, a part of us dies at times like those. Scars develop in our hearts, and we’re never quite the same. We have to find ways, somehow, to use our grief to honor them and express love for them by loving and serving others. Somehow, some way. As we do, we heal a little – though we will always grieve on some level. I’m so sorry, Shirl. If I can be of any help, please let me know. Blessings to you…
Gary, I have read your books but probably can’t remember everything due to the grief process. Today’s post hits me full force. I am spiritually numb. Some days I feel spiritually dead. It’s been 16 months since we lost our first born daughter suddenly at the age of 42. I continue to cry daily. I want so much to remember things and smile and/or laugh, but I’m not there yet. The hole she left seems to get larger each passing day. Thank you for this post. I will read it daily.
HI Betty. Good to hear from you, and thank you for your encouragement. I’m glad we’re in this together. If I can be of any help, please give me a shout. Blessings to you…
I’m not sure if it was doubting my faith, but when our Grandson was murdered last April, I possibly did. I kept telling myself, I say the Lord’s Prayer every day and in it I ask God to “deliver us from evil”. I know my Grandson also prayed the Lord’s prayer, so why did God not protect him from this evil? I know it was the work of Satan, who had taken over the lives of these young men that carried out the murder. They are so young and will now pay the rest of their lives; my family is paying too, for the rest of our lives, without our Grandson.
Thank you for your emails.
Hi Karen. Thank you for sharing. I’m so sorry about your Grandson. You’re right – evil. Just plain evil. I wish I knew why. Then again, I’m glad I don’t know why because I probably could not understand it. And yes, everyone involved is paying, and losing as a result of this. All I know to do is to turn things around somehow, and live in such a way to thwart evil wherever we find it. Ultimately, it will not win. I’m so sorry for all the pain you and your family are enduring. I can’t imagine…
I have. I lost my Grandson who 20 in June. He was my son’s boy. Two months later my only sister passed unexpectedly. She was 72. My only sister. Mom and daddy passed in 1980’s. Fell so alone, and my heart breaks for my sons loss.
Hi Sue. I’m so sorry. So much loss. No wonder you feel alone. Please feel free to share here any time, or email me. Thank you for sharing with us.
Spot on. Again. My faith has been severely shaken this time. Can’t even begin to try to figure stuff out. I’m empty. People don’t understand. Theirs lives have not been shaken to the core. I need him back. Waiting for my turn is torture. I just don’t understand.
HI Barb. Thanks for sharing this. And no, we can’t even begin to figure it out. If we could, well, I guess we would be God. I’ve spent some much time and energy trying to figure stuff out over the years – make sense of things, etc. When push comes to shove, I either live and trust, or else languish. And you’re right – people who have not been broken cannot hope to understand. This is beyond intellectualizing. It is brute, disabling emotional pain and longing. I’m so sorry. Thanks again for your honesty.
Oh yes. And the words “spiritual numbness” describe this abyss that encompasses one at this most unthinkable time.
What to do with these feelings? How to continue breathing? The faith we thought was strong and steadfast seems elusive.
And so we take small steps to examine life with a new reality we could not have prepared for. And little by little things become manageable. And we find a new way of doing life. But changed forever.
Numbness is not a big enough, strong enough, deep enough word.
Hi Lee Ann. You are so right. Perhaps no word is deep enough. Nothing comes close. I’m so sorry. Thank you for sharing. Yes, we find a way to do life…and yes, we are changed forever.
My only child died unexpectedly while working away from home. I arrived home to find the sheriff with my daughter-in-law.Ithink I died in some ways too. His dad died 3 years earlier. I feel empty inside yet i can still find laughter amidst the hurt. And I give the reason to God. I couldn’t handle otherwise.Your letters help me to realize this is normal.
Hi Ann. I’m so sorry. What terrible losses. And so traumatic too. Yes, we die in little ways. Or perhaps, we experience deaths along the way and it changes us and what we think living is. And I’m with you – without God I could never begin to handle, well, anything. Thank you for sharing.
I understand that i feel nothing no joy no happiness it as if I am dead inside I don’t know how to fix me . Mess did not work made me worse . I hate feeling nothing at all but I don’t know how to get out of this place of emptiness . I go to work do what I have to do. That is it like I died too
Hi Valerie. I’m so sorry. Yes. It’s like our hearts shut down or grow cold. I do think a part of us dies in a way. We have a place in our hearts reserved for them that no one and nothing else can fill. Hopefully, over time the grief changes, and we begin to use it as fuel to live, honor them, and make a difference in a world full of loss. Thank you for sharing…
I admit I lost a lot of my spiritual self when my daughter killed herself. I thought church would bring me peace and it did for a short time a couple of weeks. But that was my strength and belief but when I hoped my church would help and comfort me but they seemed not to be there for me. I couldn’t hold on by myself I needed someone or something to be there to help keep me centered. I moved and tried to attend churches in my new area but just didn’t feel right. It has been almost 10 yrs and I don’t seem to be able to get back to the love I use to have. I don’t think I’m mad at God. It’s just not there and I wish it was. I miss the joy of Christ I use to feel.
Hi Betty. I’m so, so sorry about your daughter. Thank you for your honesty. A loss like that changes everything, including our relationship with God – how could it not? One comfort for me is knowing that Jesus “gets it.” He knows all about loss, suffering, and death. He has experienced it all. He knows my mind, and he feels what I feel. He’s closer than I can imagine, and somehow, even with all the loss, He is better than I can fathom. He will see us through this. Yes, the void can be stunning. Please feel free to share here any time, or reach out via email. Blessings to you.