Pat and Tammy McLeod. Hit Hard. Tyndale, 2019.

Hit Hard could be a command, or it could be a participial phrase. In this case, it is a participial phrase. Hit Hard is an honest biography of a young man who suffered severe brain damage playing football. However, as is usually the case in such instances, his whole family was hit hard, and this becomes their story as well.

Many years ago I knew two families who had young sons die. Both families grieved, of course, and many friends and relatives grieved with them. I was told back then that when a couple lose a child, they often cannot reconcile themselves. One couple stayed together, and they really remained a positive testimony where they lived. The other couple divorced. That was almost as sad as the death of their child.

Hit Hard alternates between the testimonies of father and husband Pat and wife and mother Tammy. Both had understood that theirs would probably be a football family. Pat had played football in college, and one of his brothers had played for the Green Bay Packers. Their oldest son Zachary was playing football for his high school, too. During a pre-season scrimmage, he was involved in a tackle play that somehow caused severe brain damage.

The coach noted it right away and Zach was evacuated to a hospital. A blow to his head caused permanent brain damage. He lost much of his mobility on his right side and has to walk with assistance. He can talk, but only with great effort. He will have to spend the rest of his life in the company of caregivers.

The events surrounding Zach’s accident and partial recovery are harrowing, but they only take up part of the story. There is more.

The parents worked as advisors to a Christian campus ministry at Harvard. One thing that is very evident is that their faith was challenged, but they did not waver. Some people turn away from God when life hits hard, but other draw closer. They realize how much they need him. The McLeods clearly were in the second category.

Zach’s response also is impressive. If anything, his faith became stronger. His teen enthusiasm for Christ has become a solid foundation for his life and outlook. He sympathizes with people that most of us overlook or ignore. In a sense, as his parents explain, he sees his disability as a calling.

There is an undercurrent of something else, though. While both parents did truly trust the Lord, they were hard pressed to trust each other. To use traditional terminology, Pat was more sanguine. He saw the progress Zach was making and remained hopeful for a recovery. Even after it became clear Zach would not experience a full recovery, Pat remained positive about gains that Zach did make.

He understood the difficulties they would have, taking care of a disabled son and the great expenses involved. Still, he tried to remain positive. While it was clear that Zach would never play football again, Pat and Zach were still able to enjoy watching sports and enjoy their love for God together. One highlight in the story is that NFL quarterback Tim Tebow heard about Zach. His foundation assisted him, but Zach was thrilled when he got to meet Tebow when his team came to Boston to play.

Tammy would be considered to have a more melancholy perspective. She had enjoyed talking with Zach, singing songs with him, praying with him, and having great theological discussions with him. With his short term memory gone and his near inability to speak, she missed all these things and could see little positive. She could not understand why Pat seemed indifferent to their suffering. To him, he was being positive. To her, he was insensitive.

Before, for example, Zach and Tammy would sing together as Zach played the guitar. Zach could no longer sing in any typical manner. He still could finger the frets of a guitar with his left hand, but having lost most of his motor ability on his right side, Tammy would have to strum for him.

That really is the main conflict in the story. The testimony of all three is impressive, considering all they had to deal with. Zach also had been big brother to two younger brothers, who suddenly had a different relationship with him. Zach had an older sister who was a freshman in a distant college when he had his accident. They had been best friends before.

And, of course, in any similar case, the parents had to pay far more attention to Zach than to the others, so the whole family dynamic changed.

In spite of their struggles with one another, Pat and Tammy were both committed to their marriage. They refused to allow a wedge to divide them in spite of the conflict they were having. A solution to the conflict came from an unexpected source.

Tammy was discussing her situation with a librarian. The librarian said that it sounded like they were dealing with ambiguous grief. She proceeded to show her a book by that title, and as both parents read the book, a light went on.

Grief comes from loss. Usually, though, the cause of our grief is final in some way. For example, yesterday I learned that a dear cousin of mine passed away two days ago. I am saddened by that, but also know I can deal with it. She had been ill for some time, so her family was prepared. She was in her nineties, so she lived a long, full life. When I think of her, I do think especially of a full life.

I know it will be hard for her children and grandchildren, but they also know that grieving is a part of this life. It may be hard at first, but when we grieve over a loss, whether it is from a death or, say, a property disaster, we eventually get over it and move on. We cannot bring a loved one back from the grave, and in most cases we probably realize that they would not want to come back. We grieve, but we get through it.

Ambiguous grief is different because there is not a finality to the loss. In some cases a person disappears from our life, but we know they are still alive somewhere, or at least we hope they are. Such things as a runaway, divorce, abandonment, or kidnapping can cause grief, understandably so, but there is no finality. There can be a sense of fear or bitterness or other emotions because they are gone but not really gone. There is grief, but it is uncertain, ambiguous. It is not final. We have trouble handling it, and it may continue for years.

The other kind of ambiguous grief comes from when we still have the person or thing but there is now a radical change that creates a different kind of loss. This can happen from brain damage, dementia, or some other debilitating disease. Tammy lost the old Zach, but Zach was still there. She was grieving over what she had lost, but it was hard to do so because he was, if anything, a bigger presence in their lives now.

Yes, once the McLeods began to understand what they were experiencing and then learning to deal with it, they could begin to accept even this ambiguous loss. This is an encouraging testimony of the faithfulness of God over a period of about ten years, but also a witness to others who may be experiencing their own ambiguous grief.

Grief can hit hard, but with God’s help and understanding we can make it through. Just the other day I read that all tragedy derives from the Fall, all comedy from the Promise. Even the way we see Jesus is ambiguous. He was executed brutally and unfairly. He was abandoned and punished for our sins (Isaiah 53:4). We cannot forget that. The book of Revelation tells us that Jesus sometimes even appears in Heaven as a lamb who was slain (see Revelation 5:6. 5:12, or 13:8).

At the same time, Jesus rose from the dead. The Bible says He was “raised for our justification” (Romans 4:25). What he went through overcame sin and death and gave him authority. Not only is He the lamb, He is king of kings and lord of lords (Revelation 19:16). We need both. We need him in Heaven to rule, but we would also like to have Him around, near us.

It took time, but He helped heal the McLeod family. Sometimes, having someone else understand what we have gone through is what we need. If we think God does not understand, just take a look at the Cross. He gets it.

N.B. This book touches on an elite world like Harvard, exclusive prep schools, and professional athletes. Even in such places, belief in the God of the Bible has not been eliminated. Thank you McLeod family for your testimony. I am thankful for such people when I was at Harvard. I am glad to hear there are some still there.