For most of the service Dianne had cried. Not a “shoulders heaving, ugly face wailing” kind of cry, rather a “shallow breathing, clinched jaw, trying to hold it in while the pain bubbles upward and out the eye sockets” kind of cry. The dismissal announcement was made, and the congregants went about their normal post-church service routine. But Dianne remained frozen in her seat, gripping a shredded tissue. It had been only three months; the loss of her husband was still raw. But the friends they once associated closely with had distanced themselves. She felt invisible amid the joyous chatter from the pews near her. She and Martin had been married in this chapel four decades prior. Did anyone even remember he ever existed?
“I, uh, I um, I don’t really know what to say,” the words cracked as they filled the air. Turning toward the stuttering voice, she stared into the eyes of a young man she barely knew. He glanced away and then again met her gaze, “I don’t have a clue how you feel,” he continued, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I just want you to know I pray for you every single day. I miss Mister Martin handing out bulletins at the door.”Unable to speak through the tears, she nodded to acknowledge the remarks. After amoment of silence, he patted her shoulder. “And your tears don’t bother me,” he said as he turned and walked away. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it momentarily before releasing it to reach for another tissue.
Dianne shared this story with me over coffee two years later. “If I could point to the moment my heart began to heal, it was that moment. And it wasn’t from a fellow parishioner that Martin and I had known for years. It came a teenager.” Someone had noticed her tears, acknowledged her loss, and validated her grief. Oh the power of those words from an unexpected source.
Why does grief make us uncomfortable? Perhaps we as Christians sometimes view the outcome of death after illness or accident as a lack of faith or unanswered prayer. After all, we fasted, prayed, quoted all the right verses, and yet the funeral happened. But the same infallible Word that mentions moved mountains also says much about grief and mourning. Yes, sometimes mountains move. But sometimes loss occurs. Solomon listed death, tearing down, weeping, and mourning among the seasons of life. (See Ecclesiastes 3:1–6.) It’s a normal occurrence. Maybe it’s time we learn to embrace it. If you’ve ever experienced deep loss you know the weight it brings. Could bearing one another’s burden include sitting with someone in their grief? I think yes.
“But I don’t know what to say.” We’ve all thought it, But may a lesson be learned from the young man who approached Dianne. While his awkwardness was evident, something propelled him beyond the comfort zone to the point of Dianne’s need. Was it just compassion or empathy? Possibly. But it could have been a simple trust in God. None of us know why cancer is miraculously eradicated in one while another bears it until death. Why does a speeding car avoid another’s loved one while your family member perishes in an accident? We don’t know, and it’s ok to admit that. Some things cannot be understood on this side of the dark glass of eternity. But we do know that all things work for our good (Romans 8:28) and the work God started in us will be completed (Philippians 1:6). And even when it doesn’t feel good or make sense, we can rest assured that if we fully trust God and acknowledge Him in all our ways, He will direct us (Proverbs 3:5–6). What relief comes when we simply trust God with every outcome in our lives as well as those around us.
So the next time you notice a friend in mourning, acknowledge the grief. Offer a tissue. If they need to talk, listen. If they don’t, just be present. Invite them to coffee or dinner. Invite them again after a few weeks or months, after all, the grieving process can be lengthy. But whatever steps you take remember Solomon’s words about life’s season. Then relax, push past the uncomfortable, and example the ultimate Comforter. After all, it’s just grief – and that’s a normal part of life.
KELLY MIDDLETON
United Pentecostal Foundation Administrator | The Stewardship Group | UPCI
UPCI Widows Ministry Director | Ladies Ministries | UPCI
Published in Pentecostal Life March 2024
