Faith

Good Grief

On October 20, 2025 by Elle R.

I have been challenged this week by a dear friend and the Holy Spirit to examine my thoughts and I want to share what I have learned. There’s a beautiful story in the Marine Corps Times I have been pondering and I believe it’s worth sharing.

In 1942, in response to the American amphibious landings in the eastern Solomon Islands on August 7, plans were hatched by Japanese Admiral Gunichi Makawa for a nighttime raid into Savo Sound with the goal of destroying the vulnerable American transports and cargo ships screening the Allied landing force.

Throughout the night and early morning of August 8 and 9, the Japanese column slipped into the channel between Savo and Guadalcanal undetected. At 1:31 a.m., Mikawa issued a signal. “Every ship attack.”

Among those battered awake by 5- and 8-inch shells was 19-year-old Navy Signalman 3rd Class Elgin Staples of Akron, Ohio, aboard the New Orleans-class cruiser USS Astoria.

Swept into the air and out to sea from the concussive blasts, Staples found himself dazed, wounded by shrapnel to his legs, but alive — thanks to the M1926 inflatable rubber life belt strapped around his waist.

“I began treading water, trying to stay calm as I felt things brushing against my legs, knowing that if a shark attacked me, any moment could be my last,” Staples later wrote. “And the sharks weren’t the only danger: The powerful current threatened to sweep me out to sea.”

Rescued nearly four hours later by the destroyer USS Bagley (DD-386), Staples and other survivors were ordered to return and try to salvage the heavily damaged Astoria, which was now attempting to beach itself off the shallow waters of Guadalcanal.

Those efforts failed, as the USS Astoria took on a dangerous list before finally sinking at approximately 1200 hours, putting Staples back into the water, still wearing the same life belt.

More than 200 men were lost aboard the Astoria, with Allied dead totaling 1,023 and 709 wounded during the Battle of Savo Island. Picked up by the USS President Jackson the following day and evacuated to New Caledonia, it was only then that Staples felt safe enough to remove his lucky life belt.

To his surprise, he discovered the belt that had saved him twice from drowning had been manufactured by the Firestone Tire and Rubber Company in his hometown of Akron, Ohio.

Returning home on leave shortly after the battle, Staples reunited with his mother, Vera Mueller-Staples.

Elgin Staples wrote of his reunion – “After a quietly emotional welcome, I sat with my mother in our kitchen, telling her about my recent ordeal and hearing what had happened at home since I had gone away. My mother informed me that “to do her part,” she had gotten a wartime job at the Firestone plant. Surprised, I jumped up and grabbing my life belt from my duffel bag, put it on the table in front of her.

“Take a look at that, Mom,” I said, “It was made right here in Akron, at your plant.”

She leaned forward and taking the rubber belt in her hands, she read the label. She had just heard the story and knew that in the darkness of that terrible night, it was this one piece of rubber that had saved my life. When she looked up at me, her mouth and her eyes were open wide with surprise.

“Son, I’m an inspector at Firestone. This is my inspector number,” she said, her voice hardly above a whisper.

We stared at each other, too stunned to speak. Then I stood up, walked around the table and pulled her up from her chair. We held each other in a tight embrace, saying nothing. My mother was not a demonstrative woman, but the significance of this amazing coincidence overcame her usual reserve. We hugged each other for a long, long time, feeling the bond between us. My mother had put her arms halfway around the world to save me.“

Immediately after Barry died, it was a lot like being swept out to sea in shark infested waters. There wasn’t time to inspect my life belt. I simply held on tightly. There were helping hands all along the way to return me home to the love of Jesus – the one who made the world and had spread his arms wide on a cross to save me. However, only recently have I been able to really inspect that life belt with clarity.

I have been bobbing too long in the sea of my emotions with the sharks of doubt, anger, and frustration swimming around me.

I was so frustrated a few weeks ago I nearly shut this blog down entirely, convinced that my raw emotions were going to send readers away, or far worse, that I would profane or gravely mishandle the word of God in my anger.

When my husband died, I tearfully choked out to my eldest son that even if my light was “The light of a dumpster fire, I am still going to let that light shine for Jesus.”

I knew when I sent out last week’s blog post asking what healing would look like, that something was not right – both in my writing and my spirit. Yet in my impatience and anger, I sent out the post anyway.

God is so faithful to use even our weakness for His glory.

A faithful sister in Jesus wrote to me, and with her permission, I am sharing what the Holy Spirit prompted her to tell me.

“Healing doesn’t mean ‘going back to how it was.'” True – I can never return to my previous life.

“It means becoming who you were always meant to be, even through what broke you.” Also true, because God is sovereign and not an atom spins out of place without His permission, and becoming Barry’s wife, then widow, was always what God had intended for me, in his divine goodness.

“You and Barry are now living from two sides of the same Kingdom – he’s worshiping face to face and you’re worshiping by faith. The connection remains unbroken because in Christ, death has no dominion over love. The Father is teaching you to dwell in both realms until those realms reunite.”

1st Thessalonians 4:13-18 speaks of how believers who died in Christ will be reunited with earthly believers upon Christ’s triumphal return. Christians do not grieve without hope!

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Thessalonians%204%3A13-18&version=NIV

My friend challenged me to ask myself this pointed question.

“Father, where have I agreed to live with grief instead of living through it?”

Her question lovingly acknowledged that my grief exists, and didn’t brush it aside with a platitude.

“With” means I allow grief to accompany me, in a passive way. “Through” means I move from one side and out the other, grieving in a purposeful way. I refuse to be stagnant in grief. I want my grief to point to HIS GLORY. Jesus is my loving Savior, my lifebelt in the shadowy shark filled sea.

Last month, I wore my pink “Dumpster Fire” t-shirt that my son bought me and tossed myself out of a perfectly good airplane at 14,000 feet. I fulfilled my dream of skydiving with a gift certificate that Barry had bought me before he died. My tandem instructor heard me shout Psalm 118:24 to the heavens, “This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it!” My dumpster fire is a fire that is refining me, not destroying me. Even in my sorrow, God’s kingdom is advancing.

Healing is not going back to who I was. Healing is going towards who God has called me to be. Pain with a divine purpose.

“Sorrow will turn into joy, just as labor pain brings forth life.” John 16:20-22

I agree with what Navy Signalman 3rd Class Elgin Staples said, “Before this war, I was afraid of death. Now I don’t feel that way any more. I am ready for it if it comes.”

My old life has died, I am ready for the new life to come.

Barrett, C. (2023a, August 3). How a mother managed to save her son at Guadalcanal – from Ohio. Marine Corps Times. https://www.marinecorpstimes.com/news/your-military/2023/08/03/how-a-mother-managed-to-save-her-son-at-guadalcanal-from-ohio/

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