Loving the Grieving

A loved one dies, hordes of people descend on the family with food, paper products and promises of being there if the family needs anything. And they mean it. They truly want to help. What you are signing up for is no easy task. Those who are grieving are complicated. They are moody. They do not always know what they need until five minutes after they need it. And even if they were cognizant enough to reach out, they don’t remember who offered nor do they have the energy to call someone and ask for help.

“Grief is like living two lives. One is where you pretend that everything is okay, and the other is where your heart silently screams in pain.” (Unknown)

If ministering to the grieving is something you feel led to do, I applaud you! It is difficult and most likely will be a thankless job for a while. Not because those who are grieving are not grateful, but because they just can’t process everything the way they did before. People who are grieving feel as though they are walking around in a dense fog wearing 100 pound weights on both arms and legs. The daily tasks that used to come so easily, now take more than twice the effort. 

The first several months after our son died, I would ask myself, “What is the next thing I need to do?” Sometimes, it was a small task like putting a load of laundry in the washing machine. Sometimes it was bigger like handling the paperwork that comes with death. But that one thing was the only thing that I could focus on at the moment. 

Before his death, I could multitask; I could even plan meals in advance. After his death, I could not even think about what to make for dinner until it was literally dinnertime. Trying to schedule our dental cleaning appointments months in advance was nearly impossible. 

Those who are grieving typically don’t want to carry their burden alone nor do they want to burden others with their pain. However, if you ask them, “How are you?” They will test the waters to see what you mean by that. They may respond with, “It’s been a tough week. How are you?” Your response will determine how much they share with you. If you say, “Oh my goodness, I know” and start to list all of the stress that you have had the last few days, they will listen. They will then say something along the lines of, “I hope your week gets better,” and they will move on. They won’t burden you.

People who are grieving don’t have the energy to have the “my week was worse than your week” competition. They struggle with small talk and are often looking for those who want to have deeper conversations. Conversations about wrestling with faith while struggling to understand God’s plan.

If however, you respond with, “I’m so sorry you have had a tough week. Would you like to talk about it,” you will have just touched the heart of someone who is very broken and your interest in sharing their burden will be a blessing to them.

Please understand, you will not be judged or criticized for your response. Those who are grieving have very different perspectives on life that they didn’t have before. Their grief is such a weight that it becomes their focus while they are looking for answers. I had just watched my son take his last breath. Until doctors pronounced him, I believed with all my heart that God was going to heal him. I couldn’t understand why He didn’t. It was absolutely the hardest thing that had ever happened to me. My entire life had changed. It took months to process. 

Grieving is a long and complicated process. If you choose to walk alongside someone who is grieving, do not be surprised at the length of time your friend will need to even start healing. And, please understand, that most likely, they will never be the same person they were before their loss.

I was very much an extrovert before our son died. However, after his death, I developed many introverted tendencies. I used to recharge with people, but now, I need more time alone. I dreaded social gatherings because they required small talk. I could not small talk anymore. I was so focused on trying not to cry in public, I was unable to muster the pleasantries that society expects. Even more challenging is the fact that most small talk centers on family. My family was broken, hurting, just trying to hold the pieces together.

“Grief only exists where love lived first.” We grieve hard because we love hard. Life will not be the same after losing someone special. It changes. We change. We will never move on, but we learn to move forward. To those around us, it may seem like it has been a long time, but to those who are grieving it is a giant they fight every single day.

If you still want to help those who are grieving, I pray God’s blessings on you. While it may be incredibly difficult for awhile, know that one day that fog will start to clear, and they will be eternally grateful to you for all that you have done. You will be their hero.