“How are you?” the reporter asked me. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I said, “Yeah, I’m good!” and share how hard it was and how I found my way. They interviewed me for a Dutch Television program called ‘I miss you’ I couldn’t see it when it aired because I was serving as a worship leader in my church at that time. But when the service was over, I cycled to the cemetery, sat on a bench near Amanda’s grave, and watched the broadcast.
A year ago I was asked for this interview, but it was postponed a few times. Now, a day before my birthday, the time had come. One of the things I feared beforehand was that it would be so cold as we had to stand near the grave for hours, but the weather was beautiful and sunny, and despite all the distance due to corona, we had a beautiful, intimate conversation. It was so good for me to get the chance to tell in detail what had happened and how I learned to live with my loss through trial and error. After this conversation, it was out of my hands. I had been talking in front of the camera for two hours and told all kinds of things about my way through the land of grief. Now the program maker would make six to seven minutes of television out of it. I so hoped that he would be able to extract the essence of what I shared and that he would do justice to my story, to Amanda, to our situation, to God.
There on that bench by my daughter’s grave I quietly watched the program. I was moved and I cried. What a great job they had done. I saw myself as I am and even though I had said so much more, what had been broadcasted contained the core of what I wanted to say, also concerning my faith. I heard myself saying with conviction that God never leaves us alone and indeed I am more convinced of that now than ever before. Even though I had also known that before, for instance, in my childhood when I was hospitalized and totally alone, I had often noticed that God was there. Even if you don’t see it. Even if circumstances don’t change.
But someone said after seeing the program: “I didn’t experience it that way at all in a very difficult time in my life. I didn’t notice that God was near at all.” When I heard that, I realized that a (long) part of my journey wasn’t mentioned in the interview. While giving birth to Amanda I noticed God’s nearness. In my niece’s card, I had a very strong feeling that God was answering an important question I had: Who cares about Amanda now? But after that, it was dark for months. I was full of sorrow, sometimes full of despair: What do I still believe? What is left of what I used to think and considered to be true?
At that time, God did not feel close at all and I often wondered if I still believed. At that time I was searching for a book that honestly told how on earth you hold on to your faith when you really only feel sadness and despair. I couldn’t find it. So later on I started writing a book about this myself. It is only afterwards, a year or two later, that I could look back and see: Yes, He did not leave me alone. There were people who pointed me in the right direction, there were little things wherein I later saw that I was not alone.
So you hear me say in an interview, three years after my daughter’s death, that He really never leaves us alone. But that is not how I always experienced it, especially not in the first year after she died. It is what I can say now, looking back: He really never leaves us alone. He really never leaves you alone, even though you may not feel it at all right now.
First published in Dutch on October 1, 2020