Unexpected Grief—Coping With the Sudden Death of a Close Friend

Death is one of those weighty concepts we’re constantly bombarded with. It’s almost always connected to the stories of the first 10 minutes of the 5 o’clock news. Then there’s the unexpected phone call from your 2nd cousin letting you know that your great aunt, who you think you met once at a family reunion, died. If you’re like me, those moments might affect you at some level for a short time, but they are quickly forgotten when your favorite show comes on or your best friend calls and tells you she got a long-awaited job.

I had just taken a shower and was getting ready to spend some time with my relatives who were in town for Easter, when my intimacy with death deepened. I came out of the bathroom just in time to see my dad hanging up the phone. I could tell by his face that something was seriously wrong. I walked slowly toward him, trying to think of relatives or friends who had been sick recently, but the few possibilities I came up with were nowhere close to what actually happened.

One of my best friends, Danaea, died in a car accident the night before. She was on her way home to Little Rock, Arkansas, to spend Easter break with her family, but she only made it halfway. Danaea’s car crossed over the median on the highway and was hit by on-coming traffic, breaking her neck and killing her instantly. I had no idea how to process what my dad was telling me. Up to that point, the only people in my life who had passed away were old and sick. She was healthy and twenty.

I met Danaea in 6th grade when my family moved into her neighborhood in Little Rock. We were both homeschooled and went to the same church. She was a year behind me in school, but we stayed in contact when I went away to college. I came back to visit during breaks and convinced her to come to the same school the following year. The morning of the accident, Danaea and I sat through the same grammar exam, an exam we’d studied for the night before, although we ended up talking a lot more about life than sentence constructions.

One of the hardest parts of dealing with my friend’s death was going back to school for the last few weeks of classes and sitting in Advanced Grammar with an empty chair next to me. I went through denial for a few months, thinking that she was just on vacation or sick or something. I didn’t want to admit that the coffin I saw covered in daisies was hers.

But then the pain and hopelessness set in. I was genuinely mad at God and wasn’t afraid to tell Him. She had so much potential to change the world and didn’t get a chance to—why? I still can’t answer that. Through the whole process, though, God has taught me that He brings beauty out of pain, and the beautiful thing about Danaea’s death is that, while she lost her earthly body, she gained eternity with God because through the self-sacrificing love of Christ.

A year and three months later, I continually wonder what Danaea’s doing, or what was going through her mind right before she died. I’ve discovered that grieving is not a process that comes and goes in a few weeks, or even months, but God is still faithful and is working to restore my joy. I recently talked with Danaea’s mom about God’s faithfulness and the healing she’s experiencing, and in the midst of our conversation, she shared with me a vision God revealed to her of Danaea dancing. God gave me a renewed peace and joy in that moment through the picture of my friend dancing around the streets of heaven, free from all her previous health problems and glorifying Him completely. Now I know that she is exactly where God wants her to be—and she is loving it.