What Do You Say
When Walking Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death
What do you say to someone after they have lost a loved one? Perhaps you’re on a back porch with friends just days, or hours, after they have lost a husband and father. Maybe you’ve been at the hospital when a doctor gave a family the news. Perhaps you’re moving through a visitation line, welcoming a co-worker back to work, or sitting with a classmate who has recently lost someone close.
What do you say?
Do you dare say anything?
Is this the right place or the right time?
I spent years stumbling over myself, and often regretting what I said or didn’t say to grieving people. I still don’t pretend to always get it right. It’s awkward. It’s often heart wrenching. So often, when trying to say something deep, meaningful, encouraging, or uplifting, it just comes out sounding stupid or insensitive. I have listened to countless hurting people who have been dumbfounded by what well-meaning friends and family have said or failed to say to them; and often, I could hear myself saying or doing precisely what bothered them most.
Lately, after the loss of a couple of mutual friends, several friends have asked me to write about walking through grief with loved ones. I’m far from an expert on grief, but decades of ministry and pastoral counseling and more than a few grief books and courses have taught me a few basics about walking through grief with those we love.
What do your grieving friends wish you knew?
Here’s some basics as I have heard them from those walking through the valley of the shadow of death:
The issue I hear most often from grieving people is that their friends and family avoid talking about the person who has passed. I suppose many people are afraid to mention the loss. They don’t want to trigger sadness or create an awkward situation. The irony is that silence does both. If we’re close enough to someone that we’d talk about anything else significant in their lives, yet we don’t talk about their loved one who has passed, it tends to send the message that he/she doesn’t merit the attention. One doesn’t have to know much about the person who has passed to open the door for the grieving person to share. The sadness is already there. We’re not bringing it to mind by mentioning the person. Instead, our silence is shouting our discomfort in ways that inadvertently shut grieving people down. Humans process grief verbally. If we don’t initiate those opportunities, the conversations don’t happen, and the grief does not get processed. Opening the door to conversations about those who have passed and then actively listening is the greatest gift we can give our grieving friends. This is especially valuable and appreciated weeks and months after the loss when most people have stopped mentioning it and those grieving begin to feel like the world has moved on as if their loved one never existed. As the conversations get fewer, the desire for them typically gets greater. It matters less what you say than that you say something.
Show up. Presence alone speaks volumes. Ask more questions. Make less statements.
Don’t try to wordsmith the perfect thing to say. You can’t remove the pain or solve the problem. You’ll end up sounding insincere. Be yourself. As crass as it may sound, you’re better saying, “this sucks,” if that’s more aligned with your typical conversations that quoting Scripture or philosophy. Grieving people are not looking for resolution from you. They just want to know that you care. Obviously, your comments may be quite different with a co-worker than with your best friend or a family member. Again, align your comments with typical conversations with him/her.
Every person is unique, and each stage of grief is different. Open the door to conversation but let the grieving person lead. Don’t pry, and don’t redirect. Just open the door.
If you mention the person who has passed, listen intently. Don’t look away, at your watch, or at other people. Be fully present and engaged. Don’t rush.
Don’t compare their loss to any other loss.
Don’t make their story about you. “When my…,” I remember…,” “My…” should be off limits.
Don’t be morbidly curious. Focus on the person’s life, not death. If the grieving person talks about the death, let them. But simply listen.
Don’t offer advice and don’t tell grieving people what to do. Doing so usually leaves the person feeling as though their loss has been minimized or dismissed. They need friends, not experts or parenting.
Don’t be afraid of tears. Consider them expressions of trust and hold that trust like a beautiful glass ornament.
Regardless of what you have faced or experienced, never tell a grieving person that you know how he/she feels. You do not. Every marriage, sibling, parental, extended family, and friend relationship is as different as every person. It’s presumptuous and prideful to assume that you know what someone else is feeling or thinking.
Never suggest replacements:
“You’re young, you’ll marry again.”
“You can have more children.”
“Well, now you can finally…”
Please don’t say, “Well, it must be God’s will.” Even if you’re thinking it, just don’t go there. You can wreck a person’s faith with such insensitive comments. Traumatized and grieving people will usually absorb such comments much differently than you intend. It’s less about whether such a comment is true as it is about the timing and the ability to process such thoughts.
Don’t offer explanations as to why you missed the funeral… Just say you’re sorry you missed it. As soon as you offer an explanation, a grieving person hears what was more important to you than his/her loved one or his/her own loss.
If you knew the person well, those grieving typically love hearing good stories about him/her. If you did not, stick with “I’m sorry,” “I’m sad for you,” “I’m sorry for your loss,” “I miss…” or “I’m sorry you’re going through this.” If the grieving person knows you’ve been through something similar, a touch may be all that’s needed. Be genuine.
Again, I’m no expert, and my goal is not to create an exhaustive list. I’m just offering some thoughts from grieving friends who have taught me so many valuable lessons about how to help and avoid hurting friends in pain.
Grace & Peace,
John