I lost a friend to suicide about a year ago. I still remember the date: December 3, 2023.

When you’re in your mid-30s, still within the first half of an average person’s lifespan, the death of a peer hits hard.

At this age, I should be reuniting with friends at weddings, not wakes. By this time, I already had a few peers who had passed away too soon, due to accidents and unexpected health issues.

But when my friend Crystal (not her real name) died by suicide, I felt a grief that I had never felt before.

I let out a part-wail-part-scream that I had never heard before.

I also grieved the death of a child – Crystal had taken her infant son with her – like never before.

When I learnt of the unbelievable news, all at once, I had to come to terms with uncomfortable truths:

• I wanted to deny what had happened, but her death was real. Crystal’s “last seen” timing on WhatsApp tallied with when she passed away.
• I wanted her to recover, but her death was permanent. No cure or medical treatment could bring her back.
• I wanted to hold someone responsible, but her death was caused by her. She was the one who had ended her life – something that makes suicide different from other sudden deaths.

This is my grief story, but it’s not meant to be all about me. Instead, I hope it will offer some handles for other people who have lost loved ones to suicide, or what we call survivors of suicide.

I believe Crystal, whose life indeed shone like a crystal, would be supportive of this effort as she had often been generous in helping others.

Seek professional help

If losing a loved one is hard, losing them suddenly is harder. Losing them suddenly to suicide is even harder.

So I knew suicide grief was different, and I figured that dealing with it would need to be done differently.

If, for example, I became severely ill, I would not depend on Google search results, self-medication or home remedies recommended by family and friends. Instead, I would see a doctor, a healthcare professional.

So, similarly when I was faced with suicide grief, I decided to seek professional help from the Samaritans of Singapore (SOS). While I did not specifically request for a Christian counsellor, I was assigned to one.

I am thankful for my counsellor’s regular assurances that I did not have to share or answer her questions if I felt uncomfortable to do so. If anything, her assurances made me feel even more comfortable.

Resist blaming God

While I told some of my church friends about the suicide, I did not share too deeply about my experience. I do not expect them or my church leaders to be experts in suicide grief counselling, in the same way I do not expect them to be experts in giving medical advice.

However, I did briefly share my experience with them as I believe a church family ought to be aware of significant happenings in one another’s lives so as to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2).

I also shared that I am seeing a counsellor so they know that I am getting help, and that it is okay to get help.

While grappling with my grief, I never blamed God.

I don’t blame God because I don’t discount the importance of people’s choices – be it Crystal’s choice, the choices of the people who had disappointed her or the choices of people in this fallen world.

As Mark Vroegop wrote in Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: “… It would be a mistake to diminish the connection between the fallen state of the world and pain … Beneath every painful aspect of our humanity is the reality of sin.”

I don’t blame God because if even the death of someone as sinless and perfect as Jesus can be worked out for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28), the same can be done for Crystal’s death.

As quadriplegic Joni Eareckson Tada once said: “God permits what He hates to accomplish what He loves.” He permitted the suffering and death of His beloved Son, so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16).

I don’t blame God because it does not help to blame the God of all comfort (2 Corinthians 1:3) and the One who can empathise with our weaknesses (Hebrews 4:15).

Turn to the God who comforts

I personally have found Him comforting me, being close to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18).

Books such as Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament and A Long-Shadowed Grief were helpful.

The former offered a structured framework on how to lament, and structure is useful when you feel you need to “get a grip” amid confusion and messiness. The latter is a lot less structured, but is specific to dealing with suicide grief and offers an interesting perspective on Judas, the disciple who died by suicide.

Songs such as God of Revival remind me that even in “the darkest night, You can light it up, You can light it up, oh God of revival” because “death is overcome, You’ve already won, oh God of revival”.

God has gently corrected me too, asking me to forgive Crystal for taking her son with her. Later, I also felt the need to seek her forgiveness for being angry with her over her decision to take her life.

What has touched me the most so far, though, is when God pleasantly surprised me out of the blue through a mural I chanced upon on the last day of a solo trip overseas, while on the way to the airport.

A quote from a book by Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky was written on the mural: “The darker the night, the brighter the stars. The deeper the grief, the closer is God.”

Stars are always in the sky, but the sky in the daytime is so bright that we can’t see the stars which are dimmer. God is also always there, if only we can open our spiritual eyes and ears to see and hear Him.

If you are facing suicide grief, know that God has not left or forsaken you. Don’t allow the grief to blind you from seeing God’s unchanging love for you.

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