I Buried My 13-Year-Old Grandson. I Still Believe God Is Good
An East Texas grandfather who refuses to stop preaching the goodness of God.
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Anyone who has lost someone they weren't ready to lose knows the question that comes next. Where was God? For Steve | Choregeo Letters , the question came when his oldest grandson died at 13. It's been more than a decade. He still grieves. So does his whole family. But somehow, through all of it, he still says the words most of us choke on — God is good. All the time. He gives, and He takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Much like Job in Scripture, Steve almost felt like he lost everything. That subtle weight of grief that presses on your chest is unbearable at times. I know the feeling all too well. And if you’ve experienced grief like this, here you will find common ground as you read these words.
This is his story.
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For many, coming to a trusting loyalty—faith—in our Master, Jesus, is an “I was blind, but now I see” experience. They were completely lost and knew it, and then suddenly understood the truth: there is a Redeemer.
For me, it was more like a parent showing their child the Big Dipper. The child had always seen the stars and knew from conversations that the Big Dipper was there—they knew it was there, but now it has come into focus—and they can never not see it.
I was born into a Christian home, and at the very young age of five, my mother walked me through the Gospel. Having been raised around it, I knew it was there—but now it made sense, and I rested in its truth.
Over the years, that childlike faith germinated, was tested, and became firm. As a young adult, I questioned it, tested it, studied it, and truly made it my own.
Eight years after high school, after a stint in the oil field industry and law enforcement, with a beautiful wife and two children in tow, I moved across the country to attend Columbia Bible College & Seminary—now called Columbia International University.
During my time there, I studied Bible and Theology, completed three years of Koine Greek, and focused on education, teaching, and Christian counseling. During this time, we also welcomed our third child—my son—into the world. While attending school, my wife and I also worked with junior high, high school, and college-aged young people who were seeking and growing in their faith.
In the 35 years that followed, I moved through full-time vocational ministry, owned a small IT company, and eventually worked my way up to become a healthcare IT executive. I served in a faith-based hospital system, where I had the privilege of living out my faith and serving those who worked with and for me.
During those years:
I had fantastic, godly men pour into my life.
I formed lifelong friendships—and lost some friendships that shook me to the core of my being.
I experienced encouraging success, and I made terrible mistakes.
I saw God use me in meaningful ways, and I experienced seasons where He led me into the wilderness (think Moses).
I watched my sister leave this world—from cancer—seemingly before her time.
My wife and I watched our parents live full lives and then cross over into the presence of our Master, Jesus.
And then, I lost my oldest grandson when he was 13 years old.
I have never grieved so deeply. It has been over a decade, and I still grieve. We all do. But that experience has made our family stronger.
I didn’t understand—and in many ways, I still don’t. But even there, through it all, I knew this:
God is good. All the time.
He gives, and He takes away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
I am retired now and live alongside a lake in East Texas. I’m enjoying a slower pace of life alongside my beautiful bride of 48 years—serving in my local church, spending time with my children and grandchildren, wetting a fishing hook on a regular basis, and doing some writing.
I don’t know if I’m any good at writing. Historically, I’ve been more of a speaker than a writer. But slowing life down—both living more fully in the moment and taking time to reflect on the past—has brought out a bit more of the melancholy in me.
I write from the heart. I try to write like I speak. And I often write as if I’m talking to my young adult grandchildren—attempting to pass along what little wisdom God has graciously given me, with a heart full of love for them and pride in who they are becoming.
My heart aches for all our young people today. They face temptations and worry we could never have imagined. I pray for them—and for their parents—that through all the noise of this world, they would see the truth.
I pray they find comfort in the God who lives outside of it all, who sees it all, and who is in control of all things. That they would be strong and courageous, and that they would keep their eyes on Jesus — the Logos who entered it all and dwelt among us, the Author and Finisher of their faith—because in the end, He is the One who makes sense of it all.
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Bethany Heyne
Tom Petersen
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Thank you for sharing this beautiful story.
What a powerful testimony! Thanks for sharing!