Pushing Back Darkness

How the Lord Has Shaped and Refined Me Through My Wife’s Tragic Death 

By Davey Blackburn 

On November 10, 2015, the unspeakable happened. I came home from the gym to find my wife of seven years, Amanda—who was also pregnant with our second child—had been shot three times during a robbery in our home. One bullet was lodged in her arm, one grazed her back, and one went through the back of her head. Amanda was alive but unconscious when I found her. She passed away 24 hours later. 

Since then, I’ve been revisiting so many of our shared memories. 

THE FIGHT 

One of those memories is of Valentine’s Day when we were engaged. As a gift, I purchased a sword from the movie Braveheart for Amanda. I know, most guys do chocolates and flowers, but I’m not most guys, and Amanda wasn’t most girls. She was special, and for each special occasion I felt the urge to do something special for her . . .  something that would top the last. 

At that time, Amanda was going to school in Pensacola, Florida, and I was in South Carolina. I found a website where you could order a commemorative edition, full-size Braveheart sword, so I had it shipped to her college dorm. As she removed it from its awkward, oblong box, I imagine all her girlfriends who had gathered around to watch raised their eyebrows in dismay. 

I could picture them remarking sarcastically, “A sword? . . . How romantic.”   

But along with the sword I included a short piece of prose I penned. I called it “The Fight,” which I wrote on a papyrus scroll: 

Valentine’s Day has always been a holiday of cute hearts and cut-out shapes of love. Fleeting notes and candy seem to idealize the Valentine experience. We feast on the luscious array of chocolates and flirtatious phrases until we’ve gorged ourselves so obese with infatuation that we miss the truth behind love. And the truth is that we fight. We fight the crowds to be noticed, to be sought after, to be something more than just a number on this populated planet. We fight for significance . . . because it’s in this significance that we can lie awake at night and dream. 

It’s in this significance that we can endure the present hardships because the hope of tomorrow is deep within our clutches. It’s in this significance that we can stand alone on a promise even though we look out at a sea of seated, apathetic souls. It’s in this significance that we find our battle, a war that wages where we cannot see. 

Only few dare to venture into this other world where warriors lay slain and their corpses strewn over the hillside. To set foot in this world is to sell your soul to one side. It’s a world of significance.      

Know this today, for this is a declaration that I make not in haste but in earnest resolve. I will fight. I will fight for this calling. I will fight for the world Unseen. I will fight for your love. I will fight for this relationship. I will fight for your respect. I will pick up my sword even when everyone has laid theirs aside. I will stand in the face of all danger and peril to win your heart . . . for I could never fight enough to receive a reward as valuable as you. But I will fight . . . and I ask you one thing. Will you take up this sword and fight alongside me, and through this raging battle stand victorious . . . my Warrior Princess? 

THE ANVIL 

Since Amanda’s passing, the sword has remained a powerful image for me. 

A sword is a weapon that when wielded properly can claim territories, defend nations, and protect the defenseless. But a warrior who is going to use a sword in battle must ensure it is strong enough to endure the stress it will surely undergo. At the same time, the sword must be resilient enough to flex under strain and immediately “return to true.” 

Because of that, every sword goes through a careful shaping and refining process. 

A swordsmith puts the sword in a fire that is heated to upwards of 2100 degrees Fahrenheit. The metal is then taken out of the fire, placed over an anvil, and repeatedly struck with a hammer or mallet to shape it into a strong, durable weapon.  

If you were to personify this process, you could say the sword is undergoing a lot of pain. The sword is just a piece of metal and cannot be used but for the intense heat and hammering. The metal must undergo this “pain” to be forged into a weapon. 

A similar shaping process occurs in us when we undergo pain and hardship. 

Many people have found that life’s most trying times have also been the most developmental. 

The old adage “No pain, no gain” seems trite—especially when it involves a senseless tragedy—but, the basic principle can hold true. 

In fact, I often wonder if the intensity of pain one undergoes directly correlates with the degree of impact the shaping process eventually will have on others. So, the trial or tragedy that could have devastated you, destroyed you, and deterred you from moving on actually becomes the very thing that makes you a dangerous weapon of love to help push back darkness in this world. 

The key is not to let your pain define you but, instead, refine you into something that is more useful, purposeful, and helpful to others. 

THE FIRST LOOK 

I’m finding this to be true for my life and for Amanda’s.  

When Amanda and I married, we carved out time for a “first look” before the ceremony. We closed the doors of the sanctuary, and I stood down in front of the stage as the sound guy cued a compilation of our love songs. Our photographer surreptitiously captured the moment. I stood there waiting in breathless expectation to see my bride. 

As the double doors opened, my heart stopped. She slowly stepped through the threshold, the most beautiful smile I‘ve ever seen emanating from her lips. Her white dress and veil settled softly on her bronze skin, causing a knot in my stomach and a flutter in my heart. 

My eyes scanned her perfect frame as she waltzed toward me. 

Her radiance so distracted me that I didn’t notice she was holding something behind her back. She brought her arms around and presented me with a Braveheart sword.  

“Davey, today I’m joining you in this fight,” she said. “Until the day I die, I’ll fight for you, for us, and for people who are far from God.”  

And she did. She fought the good fight. 

She lived her life to see people meet Jesus, and in her death even more have come to know him. And through her death, I’m being shaped into someone who loves deeper, hurts stronger, and helps people more readily. 

I have vowed to spend the rest of my life seeking retribution for my wife’s death. But not in the way you may think. I recognize the real enemy was not the group of guys who broke into my house and killed her. The real enemy is the master of all evil, Satan—the one who seeks to steal, kill, and destroy.  

As I fight for love and forgiveness, I’m participating in God‘s unraveling of the work of the enemy in this world. I’m not fighting fire with fire. I’m not fighting hatred with hatred. One day at a time, one work at a time, and in true William Wallace fashion, I‘m fighting for my wife’s legacy, fighting for the freedom of God’s people, and gaining revenge on Satan’s pillaging of my life. 

I just wish I had been there when Amanda walked down the aisle for Jesus, her first love, her true groom. I wish I had seen her “first look” of the Savior. I wish I could have seen her face when from behind his back he pulled out a crown. I wish I could have seen the tears streaming down her cheeks when he whispered to her, “Well done, Daughter. You have fought the good fight. You have finished the race. Enter into your reward, my Warrior Princess.” 

Davey Blackburn and his new wife, Kristi, have devoted their lives to helping people through life’s valleys and teaching them that “nothing is wasted” when following Jesus. Davey and Kristi live in Indianapolis, Indiana, with their three kids, Natalia, Weston, and Cohen. They founded Nothing is Wasted Ministries to help people partner with God to take back their story.