When grief quietly overwhelms

The pain of loss can feel unbearable. It can come close to breaking us. The absence of the one we love, the fear, the disbelief, the anger, the changes, and the disorientation that bereavement can bring has to be one of the hardest things any human can go through. It’s no surprise grief is hard. Death is humanity’s enemy. Death was not part of Eden’s design – it won’t be part of the new heavens and the new earth – it is a product of the fall, and one that we all rail against. It has been defeated by Jesus, there is now hope of life everlasting for those who are in Christ, but death’s presence in the world is still devastatingly inescapable. All of us will know something of the horrors of weeping at a tomb – or graveside – as Jesus did when death took Lazarus, his dear friend. For some, it utterly overwhelms. What do we need to grasp in order to help such people well?

Grieving too fast

Given how awful it is, it is easy to want the feelings of grief to pass quickly. Time and again, I have heard people exclaim, “I don’t want to feel like this anymore”. As humans we can find a myriad of ways to distract ourselves from the pain: keeping ourselves busy, trying not to dwell on the past, or engaging in a whole host of numbing activities - from social media and binging series to alcohol and drugs. Such things can mute the pain, but they do not take it away.

Grief sometimes hits us time and again like a relentless wave, smashing any sense that actually we are doing ok.

Friends in church can harbour a similar eagerness for the experience of grief to wane, “it’s time to move on” people well-meaningly whisper in our ears. But the journey of grief is not one that takes just weeks or months. It is a lifetime journey – it is a pain that can change but one that stays with us until Jesus calls us home.

When we encourage people to grieve too quickly, the pain grows.

Grieving too alone

Because we feel guilty about our grief lingering – or worry that others might be getting fed up with our tears – often we try to grieve alone. We can easily start to believe that no-one, not even God, wants to hear about our loss anymore. As the support of friends and family begins to ebb away, we paint on a smile during the day and quietly answer the “how are you?” question with a polite smile and a “fine, thank you”. As we worry that we are in some way strange for continuing to struggle with loss, we tend to stop praying about our pain. Instead, we hide our grief away, letting it out only in those quiet moments when we are sure no-one else can see. And then, we cry – we sob – we pour out our pain into our pillows until our body can cry no more. To those around us in church we may look as if we are coping but inwardly we can be breaking. And feel desperately alone.

Just because someone looks like they are doing well, it doesn’t mean they are.

Lamenting for a lifetime

The Psalms of lament in Scripture provide us with a better way. Right in the middle of the Bible, we have songs which give voice to the suffering we face in this fallen world. We have words, that enable us to turn to the Lord and say, “How long?”, “Why?” and “My soul pants for you...” We have permission to be sad before a good God.

These songs were not sung just once. They were sung regularly – individually and corporately – to the covenant God who hears his people’s pain. God in his wisdom gave us a range of Psalms – praise and lament – and both are designed to be sung ongoingly, throughout life. In this fallen world, there will always be reasons to praise God because he is extraordinarily good. But there will always be reasons to cry too, because our world – our lives – are very far from the way they should be. The Psalms accompany us on a lifetime of grief. They are designed to work that way.

Lamenting with hope

But the Psalms do not just help us cry, they help us see hope. Not hope of a life that doesn’t hurt any more (not until Jesus returns or calls us home) but hope of a life that can still be good in the middle of the grief. Hope of a life that has meaning and purpose, value and joy, even while we carry the pain of loss. God does not ask his children to shun tears and replace them with happiness but to hold pain and praise together as we wait in trust for the Lord to complete his plans. God is present – he is tender in his care of those who are bruised by the pain of the fall – he is a Good Shepherd, leading, guiding, protecting, providing in the ways in knows to be best. All is not lost. The Psalms point to Christ who now reigns. The One whose hands flung stars into space, is inviting us to follow him into a future that is good.

Grieving well does not look like happiness, it looks like seeing hope through the tears.

Lamenting together

So, as churches, our call can be to be honest about our grief – to be willing to keep hearing stories of grief – to avoid the temptation to try to rush through grief and leave people quietly overwhelmed and alone. But at the same time, to find hope in grief, hope in Christ. We do that best together. We do that most effectively, when we don’t hide or avoid or numb but, corporately, pour out our hearts. And encourage each other to lift our heads and see Jesus – and the incredible compassion, love and hope he brings.

The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;

my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,

my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. (Psalm 18:2)

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Helen Thorne-Allenson is the Director of Training and Resources at Biblical Counselling UK

Views expressed in blogs published by the Latimer Trust are those of the authors and do not necessarily represent the official position of the Latimer Trust.