Memorial_DD_FBWhen someone we care about is suffering, it is just a natural response to try to do something or say something to make their pain go away. We don’t want them to hurt … we want to make it stop for them. Unfortunately, this desire can often cause well-meaning people to share ‘words of wisdom’ that can be far from encouraging or helpful.

In visiting with those who are grieving, the subject of what people have said to them is very often a topic included in the conversation. And … if you were to search the words ‘what not to say to the grieving’ on your favorite search engine, you may be shocked to find that there are more than 1 million entries on the subject. This, it seems, would be a bold indication that inappropriate words from others are a continuing concern among those who have suffered deep losses.

After the tragic death of my 21-year-old son, I was often taken aback by the words that people would offer to advise me or comfort me in my pain. My desire to be tolerant and gracious demanded a meek smile and kind eyes in response to their words but my mind and heart did not always agree with what I insisted my face portray. The platitudes that people offered would sometimes cause me to chuckle and shake my head to myself. Sometimes that was the only way to keep the tears from spilling over … but in truth, the words weren’t really funny at all. They were often not only evidence of the speaker’s lack of understanding of what my wounded heart was feeling … they could also be very insensitive and hurtful.

Sometimes I hear my own past words echo in my mind … and in my new understanding, I wish I could grab them back. I pray that in my sharing, you will gain a new understanding, as well … and that because of it, you will have spoken no words that your heart will regret.


The first time I heard these words, I was so shocked that I couldn’t do much more than just nod my head and quietly acknowledge them. When I came to my senses, I could picture myself smacking my forehead with the heel of my hand (like in the V8 commercials) and saying … “Oh, I wish I had thought of that … I shouldn’t be sad, I have OTHER children”!

I was even more shocked to find that I wasn’t the only one … grieving people hear variations of these words every day. Those who suffer still births, premature births or miscarriages often hear … ‘at least you can have MORE children’.

While both of these statements may be true … these words are not comforting in the loss of a child, whether lost in the womb or outside of it.

I AM blessed to have other children and I am so very thankful they were by my side as I grieved the death of my son. Still the other children I have or may have in the future will never REPLACE the one I have lost. NOTHING can REPLACE the one I have lost. There will always be a hole where he belongs. He was valuable … he was cherished … he is irreplaceable.

~ Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? Luke 15:4 (NIV) ~

… to be happy/jovial
… to get on with your life
… to get over it

I was recently scouring a shelf of books on grieving and came across one titled “I’m Grieving as Fast as I Can”. I’ve never read this book, but I LOVE the title … and I share the sentiment.

If I had a friend who was severely injured in a car accident and was hospitalized in Intensive Care, I would not feel it my responsibility or within my realm of wisdom to determine when it was time for him to — get over it and get on with life. Initially, when his wounds are great, he needs 24-hrs-a-day attention … he needs nourishment … he needs tender care … he needs rest, a lot of rest. Over time, his wounds will prayerfully become less life-altering and his care needs will change. Still, it takes time for full healing to take place. His healing can be guided but it cannot be rushed. And … even with the healing there may be many evidences of his original wounds. He may have scars or he may walk with a limp, but he will never be the same as he was before his accident.

Grief is multi-faceted. It is, in many ways, a physical wounding as much as an emotional one and its recovery is also multi-faceted. The grieving one is in Intensive Care. Initially, when his wounds are great, he needs 24-hrs-a-day attention … he needs nourishment … he needs tender care … he needs rest, a lot of rest. Over time, his wounds will become less life-altering and his care needs will change. Still, it takes time for full healing to take place. His healing can be guided but it cannot be rushed. Even with the healing there will be many evidences of his original wounds. There will be scars … and he will never be the same as he was before his loss.

Grieving takes time. How much time it will take can only be determined by the one suffering … and by the One who ultimately does the healing. His timing is perfect and right … mine is not.

~ He heals the heartbroken and bandages their wounds. Psalm 147:3 (The Message) ~


My God is the God of the Universe. He formed the world and all that is in it. He knows me inside and out and He knows my son, inside and out, as well. He holds me in His hands. He is in control of everything.

Does the fact that God is in control then mean that it was His WILL that my son should die a tragic death on a dark road in Iraq? I don’t think it does.

Do I believe that God allowed it to happen? Yes I do.

Do I believe there was a purpose in God allowing it to happen? Yes I do.

Do I understand what that purpose is? No I don’t … not at all!

It is simply impossible for my finite mind to grasp the wisdom and purposes of a Holy and Sovereign God. Neither do I believe that others can understand God’s purposes for why God allowed my son (or anyone else’s loved one) to die the way he did. The grieving heart is not comforted by the second guessing of God’s plan … only that He has one.

~ I don’t think the way you think. The way you work isn’t the way I work … for as the sky soars high above earth, so the way I work surpasses the way you work, and the way I think is beyond the way you think. Isa. 55:8, 9 (The Message) ~


My heart is at peace in knowing that my son is indeed in a better place than this world offered him. I believe he is where I so desperately wanted him to be; where I prayed his life on earth would lead him someday … but not today. Though my heart is comforted knowing that he is with our Lord and Savior, I simply was not ready for him to go there yet. I wanted him with me a little longer. I wanted to watch him grow into a young man, a husband … a father. I wanted so much to see what he would become … here … in THIS place.

Whenever I think of him in Paradise, I can’t keep from smiling. Still my heart yearns to speak to him … to see him smile … to feel his hugs. Though he’s in a ‘better place’ … I still feel sad knowing he’s not here with me.

~ There is a time for everything … a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. Eccl. 1:1, 4 (NIV) ~


Knowing I will be reunited with my son in eternity does bring great comfort to me but … unless I myself die an early death, it will be a while before I see my child face to face again. That is a crushing thought.

You see, losing someone you love is like having a part of you amputated. As with a physical amputation, your life is forever changed. You know you will survive it. You know you will live through it but you will always miss what you have lost … and you will always walk with a limp. You will never walk the same as you used to walk.

I know I will celebrate the day I see my son’s beautiful smile once again but for now … I just miss him.


Need I say there is no comparison?

The truth is, even though I may have experienced a loss similar to yours, I don’t know exactly how you feel. I only know how I feel. I can imagine how you feel because I’ve been through it but I do not know for sure. Though our experiences may be similar, they will also be quite different. Because of this, our hearts can react and respond in a completely different manner to our loss.

I need to be careful not to compare my grief with the griefs of others … and I need to be careful not to have expectations of those who are grieving based on how I would feel or not feel.


If in doubt … it is best not to begin any offerings meant to comfort those who are grieving with — “you should…”, “you shouldn’t …”or “at least…”

According to David R. Reinstein LCSW … “Saying things intended to try to cheer the person in mourning up, though well intentioned, conveys some disrespect for the depth of their loss and sorrow and also implies that you are uncomfortable with their sad feelings”.

So …

What SHOULD you say?

* I’m so sorry!
* I love you!
* Sit down and tell me about it.

If you just don’t know what to say … offer a hug and say nothing!


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