Words for the Grieving
I was at the funeral home, waiting in line to speak to family members who had just lost an infant. The caring man in front of me was attempting to offer words of comfort to the grieving grandparents.
He began, “We don’t always understand why God would take a little one, but we know this was God’s blessing in disguise. God always knows what’s best and probably took your grandchild so he wouldn’t have to suffer later. Besides, God has a place for him in his heavenly choir. I bet he’s singing tenor.”
The grandparents just stood there, trying to be a polite, but I could only imagine what was going through their minds. There was no way this man could convince them their grandchild’s death was “God’s blessing in disguise.” Nor did the grandparents find any comfort imagining their dear grandchild singing tenor in some heavenly choir. They would have much preferred hearing their grandchild singing out of tune in their church’s children’s choir. No, there wasn’t a lot of comfort in the words of their friend.
Obviously, the man was well-intentioned and only trying to provide comfort. To be perfectly honest, he probably didn’t know what to say and was doing his best to come up with something he hoped might make his friends feel better.
We tend to do that when someone is grieving. Death is such a heartbreaking event, and when we see people in pain we want to say something or do something that will make their loss more palatable.
Guess what? There is little we can say that makes death more palatable. Death hurts, and words rarely take away the pain. The only words that help are words of support. Words like, “I’m so sorry.” “I really care for you and your family.” “This breaks my heart, too.” “I am praying for you.” When a grieving person hears words that try to lessen their hurt they feel like their pain is not being taken seriously. Words that try to lessen their pain almost seem counterfeit.
Randall O’Brien, past president of Carson Newman University, is one of the authors of the excellent book, Assaulted by Grief: Finding God in the Broken Places. In the book, Dr. O’Brien shares insights he discovered in the following child’s obituary.
Please don’t ask us if we’re over it yet. We’ll never be over it. Please don’t tell us he’s in a better place. He isn’t here with us. Please don’t say at least he isn’t suffering. I haven’t understood why he had to suffer at all. Please, please, don’t tell us you know how we feel, unless you have lost a child. Please don’t ask us if we feel better. Bereavement isn’t a condition that clears up. Please don’t tell us at least you had him for 11 years. What year would you choose for your child to die? Please don’t tell us God never gives us more than we can bear. Please just say you are sorry. Please just let us cry.
Am I implying we find no comfort in our faith? Of course not! The empty tomb and the promise of heaven give us a divine measure of hope, but even when we cling to our eternal hope the pain of grief is still there and no simple words can allay our pain.
So what should you say to those who are struggling with grief? Not much. Your presence means more than your words. How do you make them feel better? You don’t. You simply suffer with them and let them know how much you care.
If you or someone you love is struggling with grief, let me invite you to be a part of our church’s grief support group. It’s called Good Grief and meets each Sunday afternoon at 3:30 in our church’s fellowship hall. Obviously, the group won’t make your grief go away, but it may allow you to find some comfort as you share with others who know what it means to have a broken heart.
