The church is in the center of a small town, the kind that’s a combination of boarded up windows and cute boutiques selling soaps with ribbons around them or antiques repainted turquoise.
The foyer smells like hymnals and old coffee, the conversation is at a level just above a murmur, the sentiments shared sound like, “I’m sorry for your loss” and “He was a good man.” The funeral service is sweet, the music country, the eulogies short and tearful. Then we all eat casseroles with cream-of-something in them because that’s how southerners comfort each other.
Later, as we’re all standing around making awkward small talk, someone says they wish they could stop the widow from feeling this loss. Someone else says gently, “She has to do her own grieving.”
This strikes me as true in my bones. “Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can fully share its joy,” said wise Solomon (Proverbs 14:10 NLT). It’s a hard truth because we want to take on or take away each other’s sorrow. We want to say, “Here, give me that pain, and I’ll feel it for you.” We want to offer, “I’ll shed those tears in your place.” But we all have to skin our own knees, make our own mistakes, and put people in the ground that we love then walk back into our ordinary lives.
When we refuse to embrace that we each must do our own grieving, we end up desperately trying to make each other feel better. We start spouting off spiritual cliches, becoming rescuers in unhealthy ways, or carrying around the weight of the world until it almost snaps our souls in half. One of the toughest parts of being human is coming to understand we can’t protect each other from pain all the time. But this doesn’t mean we can’t do anything at all.
We can still show up and be present in the pain. We can say, “I see you. I hear you. I know this is hard.”
We can let people express their emotions in our presence. We can bear witness to the tears, anger, or longing without judgment or hurry.
We can ask, “How can I love you well right now?” and listen, really listen, to the answer. Then do whatever that is, whether it’s mowing the lawn or making someone laugh, calling once a week or giving space, hugging with both arms or bringing a pan of warm brownies.
We can be patient and remember healing is a process not an event. We can stay in it for the long haul because hearts don’t keep track of time; it takes as long as it’s takes.
I was at a funeral that day but all of this applies to any type of loss — a dream, relationship, opportunity, hope, job, anything we’re attached to and must let go. To be human is to release what we long for over and over again. To be human is also to take hold of the people we love and say, “We are in this together. I cannot do this for you, but I will do it with you. You are not alone.”
At the end of the reception I walk outside into a blue-sky day. “How can the world just go on?” my husband asks. I don’t know, but somehow it does. And, inexplicably, so do we.
We love.
We grieve.
We keep walking each other Home.
Anxiety and grief often go together. One resource that can help with both is Holley’s new devotional book, What Your Mind Needs for Anxious Moments. Download the first 3 devotions for FREE here.
Ruth Mills says
Bravo! Well said & so deeply wise, Holley! I found Nancy Guthrie’s “What Grieving People Wish You Knew About What Really Helps” agrees with your post. Your “refresher course” of her book deepens my tool chest of grieving with the hurting. Thank you! Blessings!
Holley Gerth says
So glad you found this helpful, Ruth!
Gail says
Holly, this is excellent. Thank you!
Janice Colston says
I agree, this is excellent. I recently lost my husband and grieving is a process which is not linear.
Holley Gerth says
I’m so sorry for the loss of your husband, Janice…sending a hug, saying a prayer for you.
Beth Williams says
Janice,
Sweet sister so sorry for the loss of your beloved husband. Asking God to send His comfort & peace to your grieving soul. May you feel His loving arms around you.
Blessings 🙂
Maura says
Spot on. Pain is not something to fear, but to let God lead you through.
Holley Gerth says
Yes, Maura, so true.
Dawn Ferguson-Little says
Holly we all greive at some time in our lives. It could be over someone special we love or favourite animal. It not nice greif. But we know we have big big God who will help us through it and in the days that lie ahead and help us be there for the person in our family or friend that is greaving. Show then the love of God. If they let you pray them. As it the unwelcome guest that knocks at every door. To do with a love one or animal we love too. But it teaches us before grief knocks at door. To do with a love one or animal we love too. To make memories and tell the people we love them and show the animals we have love and do nice things with our loved ones and spoil our animals. Let remember God gave them to us Animals and people in our live to love and care for them. Let them all know they are special to us. As when they are gone. We will if don’t we say why didn’t I make memories with them show them more love or spoil my animals more. Then it will be too late. Xx
BC from BC says
Thank you, Holly, we all need to hear this. I have heard when you love deep you grieve in the same way. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. Even if it’s a pet. I have lost 3 in less than a year. Even though they were older my heart is still aching. It means so much when someone says they get it as they too have lost a pet. They were a part of our family. It will take time. they will be forever in our hearts and memories.
Holley Gerth says
“When you love deep you grieve in the same way.” That is beautiful!
Beth Williams says
BC,
I have lost 3 pets in my lifetime. Understand how they become a part of your family. You miss their smiles, tail wagging, hugs they give. So sorry you lost 3 in less than a year. Asking God to send comfort & peace to your grieving soul. May you feel God’s arms surrounding you giving you a big hug.
Blessings 🙂
Christina Ryan Claypool says
Someone I care about recently lost an adult child. Since I am not a close friend but I care, I didn’t know what to do to help. In the past as a former local TV producer, I vividly remember interviewing two women who wrote a book about the aftermath of the death of a child. As mothers, they had both experienced this greatest of all heartbreaks. They advised people who are not intimate friends to not invade the privacy of grieving parents by trying to be a close friend and intruding at the time of their bereavement. Still, in addition to praying, I wanted to do something tangible.
So this morning, rather clumsily I asked a loved one who had also suffered the grief of an adult child’s passing some years ago, what should I do to be of support. They gave me a few tips, but basically agreed if you are not a close friend be cautious not to intrude.
Then when I opened my emails and this was there from Incourage, it sure seemed like timely wisdom from Heaven. Thank you, Holly. Grieving parents may have to walk alone, yet this post reminded me my prayers can offer valuable support for them on the journey.
Holley Gerth says
So glad this was helpful for you, Christina.
ELMorehead says
Because our culture has embraced Comfort, & distanced itself from Death, we’re very uncomfortable in death’s presence.
So what, being uncomfortable is a part of being human! Jesus said: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Being There Consistently for someone who’s mourning, is what the Church (Christian Believers) are to do! This is done with deeds, more than with words.
Tammy Kennington says
Having someone with us in our pain can make all the difference. It’s important for us to remember. Beautiful!
Beth Williams says
Holley,
Everyone grieves differently. Working in ICU as a clerical I see tragedy & loss often. If the family seems receptive I often say “I’m praying for you”. “I know this is hard. I’ve been in your shoes with my parents.” “Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.” Most are thankful for the prayers. Sometimes that’s all you have. It’s my way of comforting the hurting.
Blessings 🙂