On Grief and Comfort

This past week was one of those weeks that leaves you struggling to find words.

My mom’s best friend of more than fifty years (Jayne) was involved in a devastating head-on collision shortly after leaving my mother’s house last Tuesday afternoon. They had spent time together that day, talking and visiting like they usually do with sea much of their conversation centered around a sweet little dog that someone had apparently abandoned at the end of mom’s driveway.

As her friend fought for her life in the emergency room, more heartbreaking news arrived. Jayne’s youngest daughter, Kathy, who had been battling a long illness, unexpectedly died from complications related to pneumonia on Wednesday.

As I was taking in all this grim news, another difficult turn arrived. Mom, learned that her best friend was not expected to survive her injuries. I drove down to be with my mom. I knew she needed someone to be present for her as she processed what was happening and grieved. Thursday evening, while I was headed to see my mom, she had the opportunity to visit with her friend one last time. And then on Friday afternoon, while we attended mom’s weekly drawing group, her dear friend passed away and went to be with Jesus.

Sometimes grief arrives all at once, rather than trickling out over time.

In moments like these, there are no easy answers, no words that can remove the pain, and no shortcuts through sorrow. What we do have is the presence of God, who meets us in our grief and walks with us through the valley. What we have is each other, the presence of one human being sitting with another and walking together through a difficult storm.

As I sat with my mom, I simply did my best to listen. I had no words to encompass her sorrow. Nothing I said would change the trajectory of the journey she was on. I just tried to listen as we sat on her patio, late into the evening and early in the morning.

Singer-songwriter Stephen Wilson Jr., laments grief is only love that’s got no place to go.

Friend, grief is the price we pay for love. The deeper the love, the deeper the wound when that person is gone. Yet even in our sorrow, we are not abandoned. Christ remains with us, carrying us when we lack the strength to walk on our own.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted.” Psalm 34:18 (ESV)

If you are grieving today, may you know the comfort of God’s presence, the support of His people, and the hope that death does not have the final word.

Be salty, stay lit.

Rainer Bantau —The Devotional Guy™

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