What does it mean to love someone through decline? To stay when staying means enduring pain? To believe in God when grief and unanswered questions press in from every side? These are the raw, soul-searching questions that Victor Lee Austin grapples with in Losing Susan: Brain Disease, the Priest’s Wife, and the God Who Gives and Takes Away.
A theologian and Episcopal priest, Austin tells the story of his marriage to Susan, their life together, her diagnosis with a brain tumor in her late thirties, and the 19 years that followed as he became both husband and caregiver.
The book is at once a love letter, a theological reflection, and a brutally honest account of what it means to walk beside someone through chronic illness. And for readers of The Invisible Mentor, it offers deep insights into not only spiritual endurance, but also the character-based leadership that is formed in the crucible of real life.
A Different Kind of Loss
When we think about loss, you often imagine the final moment, death itself. But Losing Susan complicates that narrative. For Victor, losing his wife began long before her final breath. After surgery to remove the tumor, Susan experienced cognitive and physical decline. She was no longer fully the person he had married. At least, not in the way he once knew her.
What’s powerful here is how Victor names that complexity. He doesn't pretend caregiving was easy. He doesn't paint himself as a saint. And he shares his impatience, his guilt, his frustration, and his longing for things to be different. And yet, he stayed. He remained faithful to her, to his calling, and to his God. Even when answers were few and comfort was hard to find.
For those seeking meaning, purpose, or spiritual depth, this book offers an important reminder. Love is not always romantic. Sometimes, it is slow, difficult, and demanding. But it is also transformational.
Faith That Doesn’t Flinch
Victor is a theologian, but Losing Susan is not a theological treatise. It’s far more intimate than that. Still, his reflections on God, suffering, and divine justice are woven throughout. And one of the most moving parts of the book is his engagement with the Book of Job.
Like Job, Victor asks, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Susan was kind, faithful, generous. Why did she suffer so profoundly? There are no easy answers here. But Losing Susan shows that faith can coexist with doubt, that questioning is not the opposite of belief but an essential part of it.
In a world that often rewards polished certainty, Victor’s honesty is a breath of fresh air. He has a faith that doesn’t flinch in the face of suffering. It wrestles. It weeps. And ultimately, it remains.
Leadership in the Shadows
There’s another reason this book matters for readers of The Invisible Mentor. It challenges you to expand your understanding of leadership.
Leadership is not always about influence or impact. Sometimes, it’s about staying present when it would be easier to walk away. It’s about being faithful in the mundane, thankless tasks. It's about choosing compassion again and again, even when you're depleted.
Victor’s story models what I call “leadership in the shadows.” It’s the kind that doesn't get headlines or accolades but quietly changes the world, one loving act at a time.
For those who serve as caregivers, mentors, parents, or community leaders, this message is essential. You don’t have to be perfect. But you have to be present.
The Power of Community
Victor doesn’t take sole credit for Susan’s care. Again and again, he acknowledges the community around them. The friends, church members, and strangers who stepped in with kindness at just the right moment.
During one crisis, when Susan had a seizure while they were traveling, a series of strangers helped them get home: an airport worker with a wheelchair, women who stepped in to help in the bathroom, a shuttle bus arriving at just the right time. Victor saw these as moments of grace, and he’s right. They’re reminders we’re not meant to suffer, or lead alone.
At The Invisible Mentor, we talk often about networks of knowledge and support. Losing Susan reminds us that emotional and spiritual support are just as essential as intellectual growth. No one becomes wise in isolation.
A Mirror for the Reader
Losing Susan is not just about Victor and Susan. It’s about us. About what it means to love deeply. About what it costs to care. And about how we navigate the tension between faith and suffering.
It’s also a mirror. As I read, I found myself asking:
- How do I show up when life gets hard?
- Do I stay faithful in small, unseen ways?
- What does it mean to lead with love?
Victor Lee Austin doesn’t offer solutions, but he offers something better: presence, story, and the honesty that helps others feel less alone.
Final Reflection
Losing Susan is a tender, unsettling, and deeply human book. It will stay with you. Not just because of the tragedy it recounts, but because of the beauty it uncovers along the way. It is about caregiving, but also about calling. About marriage, but also about meaning. About death, but more importantly, about love that outlasts it.
For readers of The Invisible Mentor who are navigating complexity in leadership, in faith, in relationships, this book is a worthy companion. Not to give you answers, but to remind you that you’re not alone in the questions.
And sometimes, that’s enough.
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