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As a young parish worker, I remember my
distress before making my first visit to someone whose husband had
just died. What on earth was I going to say? I went in fear and
trepidation – only to find that God had got there before me to make
the ordeal a great deal easier than I had expected.
Make up your mind not to worry in
advance what you will say, Jesus urged His disciples.1 Not to worry,
but rather to pray – that is the key. When Job’s friends heard about
the devastating troubles that had come his way, they set out
together to sympathize with him.
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They sat on the ground
with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word
to him, because they saw that his suffering was too great
for words.
Job 2:12-14 |
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Wildly inappropriate though
their subsequent advice turned out to be, they began well,
sitting quietly with their friend for an extended period of
time. Only later did they hurl their misguided accusations
and their pious platitudes at a man whom God was testing to
an unprecedented extent.
Those of us whose lives have not been
touched by tragedy need to be especially careful not to tell people
in distress what to do. As Job observed, People who are at ease
mock those in trouble. They give a push to people who are stumbling
(Job 12:5). Whilst it may be helpful to share our own
experiences, it is important not to make it sound as though we have
known far greater losses ourselves. Grief is not competitive!
How people handle grief is a
profoundly personal matter. Some can’t wait to talk, in which case,
we have only to follow where they lead. If they prefer to sit in
silence, we need be in no hurry to fill the gaps. It is rarely
helpful to look the sufferer straight in the eyes and demand to know
how they are. Such an approach leaves them with no hiding place if
they do not feel ready to provide an in-depth, “honest” answer.2 A
cup of coffee together can be more helpful than cheerful attempts to
chivvy people’s pain away, or even to reassure them that “things are
bound to get better.”
Insensitive and over eager visitors
and evangelists can’t resist taking advantage of the person’s
weakness, but this will prove profoundly counterproductive if it
appears pushy or guilt-inducing. At the same time, we would be
hiding our light under the bushel if we were not prepared to share
the faith that means everything to us.
Michael Green shares the sobering
story of a man who faithfully befriended a non Christian friend for
many years. When this friend was later taken terminally ill, he
tentatively tried to mention God. “Forget it, John,” his friend told
him. “If it had mattered that much to you, you would have mentioned
it years ago.”3
Nothing so helps people to sense that
God is touching and holding them as the loving attention of people
who really care. It offsets their fear that they are being
“obsessive” about their loss. If we can cook for them, clean, tend
the garden, care for the children or pets and run whatever errands
are necessary, our presence and practical support will be worth its
weight in gold.
A family person who is now on their
own may really appreciate a phone call on a Saturday afternoon. It
is remarkable how much blessing a loving letter can bring too.4
People rarely think to write to children who have been affected by
loss, yet they too have intense needs that will benefit from being
thoughtfully addressed. As Francis Thompson reminds us:
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Grief is a matter of
relativity . . . a gash is as painful to one as an
amputation to another . . . Children’s griefs may be little,
but so is the child, so is its endurance, so is its field of
vision, while its nervous impressionability is keener than
ours. |
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As the Lord directs, the Holy
Spirit may give us special authority to set people free from
excessive grief and trauma. Nothing is better than to bring
them into God’s presence, provided that they are ready and
willing, but this is not the time for assertive prayer or
in-depth counselling. More often than not, we are there to
help people prepare for the long haul, and to walk with them
through what may well prove to be an exceedingly bleak and
painful season.
With the best will in the world we
are bound to put our foot in it from time to time, and to say (or
do) things that hurt the person we are trying to help. I’m sure I
must have often been too quick to say, “It must have been God’s
will,” or “I know exactly how you are feeling!” At the right time,
such words help people to feel loved and understood – but said at
the wrong time or in the wrong way, there is a danger of it having
the opposite effect. How can I claim to know how they are feeling if
I haven’t given them the chance to tell me?
It only takes a few such “foot in
mouth” moments to make us wish that we had never got involved in the
first place. Whatever has happened, do not let it hold you back from
reaching out to those who are grief-stricken. Ask forgiveness for
any insensitivity on your part – and pray to be more in tune next
time round. |
