I had plans to attend a quarterly ladies’ event at church that evening. “It would be good for me to get out and be around people,” I reasoned. As I stared in my closet vacantly trying to decide what to wear, grief overtook me and the tears began to flow. There was no stopping Niagra Falls, and there was no muting grief’s expression that night either. I could usually put on a good face, pretend I was happy despite struggling over my child’s math homework moments before, or be pleasant with one patient after another had been rude and caustic, but this was different. I just couldn’t bring myself to go, put on a “happy face”…it took too much energy. While everyone else would be walking in with girlfriends as their companion, I didn’t like my new companion: grief. And in many ways, it reminded me of my first experience with it, at way too young of an age…
All eyes were on my brother, who was six years my junior, my mother, and I, as we sat on the front row of the church. My mother and I had just returned from a summer in Wilmington, Delaware where I had been a “resident” at the Alfred I. DuPont Children’s Institute while undergoing invasive reconstructive surgery rather than taking driver’s education training like all my other 15-year old peers. Leaving the hospital in a full-length cast, we made haste and drove across the country, arriving home just in time for a celebratory dinner with cake and ice-cream for my brother’s tenth birthday. Little did we know that we also arrived home just in time to kiss my father goodnight one last time. He died that night from a massive heart attack at 42 years of age. As we sat on the front row of the church for his funeral, my eyes stared longingly at his face in that casket, but I was ever aware of others’ eyes upon me. Is she OK? How will she take it?
These were not the only instances of grief to toss me upon the shore, leaving me battered and thirsty. Death has claimed several I loved dearly. My husband went through his own battle with a rare form of abdominal cancer at the same time that cancer claimed my mother’s life, and we lost our baby to miscarriage. I’ve lost friends to premature death, including a very dear spiritual mother who was my biggest cheerleader and a great prayer warrior.
But grief and loss don’t necessarily have to come in the form of death. Separation, divorce, moves, deployments, and just the normal ebb and flow of life can make relationships fizzle out, leaving a gaping wound in need of comfort and healing. We can experience grief from the loss of a job or a move or even the loss of a dream and expectations we had.
God gave us grief as a way of managing loss. Even Jesus was grieved and wept over the death of His friend Lazarus. Grief reminds us not just of how much we lost, but how much we loved.
To some degree, our grief and loss is complicated because it’s so individual and even when it’s a shared experience, our expression of grief can be so different from others’. Yet the grief we experience can bridge the gap to someone else’s pain. But there are some aspects that are constant and if we can remember them, they will help us in the grieving process:
1) You can only ever take the grieving process one day, one hour, one minute at a time. “Crying may last for a night, but joy comes with a new day.” (Psalm 30:5).
2) Grief is hard, but God is faithful. In our grief, even when others do not understand or cannot relate, He is well-acquainted with our sorrow. “He was despised and rejected–a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief” (Isaiah 53:3).
3) God doesn’t expect us or require us to remain strong. In fact, His word promises that in our weakness, He will BE our strength. “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10).
4) Don’t fight the grief—you need to feel it to heal it. Rest in His provision for you during this time. “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still” (Exodus 14:14).
5) We never go through grief alone—God is always right there beside us, and promises to catch all our tears. “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book” (Psalm 56:8).
6) Everyone grieves in their own way. Don’t compare your grief to someone else.
7) Keep your eyes focused on the ultimate comforter. We lose our peace when we focus on the problem rather than on our Heavenly Father, our Problem Solver.
8) Treasure the memories, as well as the blessing of the moments of today. None of us knows how many more days we will have. Count each day as a blessing.
9) Never be ashamed to need or ask for help. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but rather, it signals courage and strength. Others want to help but don’t know what you need. Help them help you by asking for what you need.
10) Let God see you through—He will redeem your grief. “Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve but your grief will turn to joy” (John 16:20).
As I sat across from her, tears streamed down her cheeks. “I am in awe of the empathy you have for me…And to me, that means everything!”
To me, there was only response to that, “It’s just a love He’s given me for you. A comfort I can give you because of the comfort that has previously been shown to me. He loves you. He sees you. He wants you to know you aren’t alone.”
Sometimes we don’t need anyone to DO anything. We just need them to be present in our lives. To show they care. To help us not feel so alone. To walk with us through the grief. And then eventually, we will be able to comfort others. In that way, our grief process becomes a gift to others.
“He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us” (2 Corinthians 1:4).
Because of Him, #HopePrevails!
Dr. Michelle Bengtson
Latest posts by Dr. Michelle Bengtson (see all)
- The Gift of Grief: 10 steps to help us through the process - March 8, 2016
- Change Your Thoughts and Improve Your Health - September 22, 2015
“God gave us grief as a way of managing loss.”
I’m sitting with the truth of this, and rejoicing in God’s wisdom. I see that all the symptoms and overwhelming emotions are not for nothing, but are His gift for managing life on this fallen planet.
Thank you for wise words spoken from a place of real life experience.
Michelle, such wise advice….and it’s such an important reminder just to be present (without lots of advice and Scripture quoting….as in “this will fix you in your grief.”) Our dear friends lost their young teen-age son suddenly last month. I almost made the mistake of not going to their house to be present. I had originally made this choice, thinking they wouldn’t have wanted the intrusion–that they would be bombarded by visitors. When I grieve, I want to be alone and I had projected my feelings and preferences onto theirs. But it didn’t seem right. And finally I thought just going would indicate my love for them, even if I had misinterpreted what they would need. In the end, it turned out to be just the right thing to do. I really didn’t have much to say, except how sorry I was….and to offer my love and lots of tender hugs. It was the right thing to do, and I’m so glad I went. I have also found that it is important to listen when others want to share their grief. After my father died, I was confused when people didn’t seem to want me to talk about him, or when they immediately interrupted, either changing the subject entirely or else sharing their own grief stories. But they weren’t listening to my immediate and fresh story. Sometimes good listening is the greatest gift of all. Thank you so much for sharing. I’m so sorry that you lost your daddy at such an early age. It’s hard to imagine. I’m so very sorry for your loss. I also see how deeply God has worked in your life to comfort you, and how you, in turn, are comforting others. I thank you for that.
Love
Lynn
Lynn,
Our presence often communicates so much more than our words ever can. And if we will be sensitive to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, He will give us the right words at the right time. But as you say, sometimes in addition to our presence, the greatest gift we can give to someone who is grieving is to just listen. It’s cathartic to talk through our memories and our hurts during our grief, and for someone to give the gift of a listening ear will do much more for our wounded souls than words or Scripture quoting ever will. I’m so glad you went and were a vessel of honor to your grieving friends. They will cherish that gift!
Michele,
God is merciful. He always gives us a way to handle whatever we go through. He hates to see us suffer, but He loves to provide for us in our suffering. He gives out of His abundant love for us, and in doing so it draws us closer to His heart. Feel His heartbeat Dear One! Because of Him, #HopePrevails!
Michelle you have lost so much. Your grief has been an obvious gift in that you now comfort others with the same comfort you have received from God. Your words here are reassuring balm for the brokenhearted. Bless you.