Giving God Your Grief

We all deal with the death of a loved one differently. When I shared the news about my mom’s death to my two younger daughters, they both reacted with diverse emotions. The timing was not ideal, because it was right after their soccer practice. As the three of us gathered in my F-150 pick-up truck, I delivered the devastating news.

This was the hardest thing I did after my mom’s death: deliver the news to my two younger children. My older two daughters were with my mom when she died, so they were able to process her death with me at the same time.

I had a hard time telling them because I was weeping heavily as I pieced the words together.

In response to the bad news, big tears streamed down my ten-year-old daughter’s face. But my seven-year-old asked, “You’re just joking, Dad. Right?” For several minutes, she refused to believe me. She kept repeating that I was only joking. Her response broke my heart even more, because she didn’t want to accept this as reality.

I assured her that I would never joke about something like this and I asked her to look at my tear-filled eyes as proof of grandma’s death. She started to tear up.

“Can I hug you two?” I asked. The three of us huddled and wept in my truck for several minutes. Grandma was dead, and we could do nothing about it other than cry and hug. And so that is what we did.

As I am writing this, it has been forty days since my mom’s death. I have felt many emotions and watched other family members work through their grief in their own unique way. But I have also noticed that some avoid this process of grief, and that will harm them in the future.

It doesn’t really matter how old or young you are, you must address your emotions if you are to heal and find health after the death of a loved one.

It is not my goal to take you through a grief cycle or a mourning process, because there are no clear action steps to feel whole again. Yet, by talking through a few feelings that flash within our hearts in the weeks after the death of a loved one, it will help you deal with some pain that you are experiencing or will encounter in the future.

In the past, I would bottle it all up and say to others, “I am doing fine.” When we bottle up our feelings and act as if “life goes on” and that “all is good”, we don’t give ourselves a chance to become whole.

We have noticed this with one of our daughters. She doesn’t want to talk about grandma’s death. She doesn’t want to look at pictures of grandma. She seems to desire a world where grandma never existed. In her heart, she thinks that this will ease her pain, but she will do damage to her soul for the rest of her life if she doesn’t deal with it.

As I explain these emotions, I will present them as if we are having a conversation with God. God tells us to bring our weary burdens to Him, and He will give us rest (Matthew 11:28). God is the one who will heal you as you work through your grief. So, please come along with me on this journey as we explore how important it is to give our emotions to Jesus. 

“God, I feel SAD.” An overwhelming sadness came upon me the moment my mom breathed her last breath. It was as if a part of my heart exited my body and went up to heaven. In many ways, time stopped. Nothing else really mattered. I just wanted to be around family. They understood what I was going through. They could feel and sense the same pain.

The first several days I could feel a cloud of despair over me.

The sinking feeling of the finality of her death was almost too much for my mind to comprehend. I knew the truth of the Christian faith that mom was alive in heaven and that I would see her again someday, but I wanted her presence in my life right now.

Not in thirty or forty years. That felt too long for me, and it made me sad.   

Some advice for how to be empathetic with those who are grieving. For those well-meaning individuals who try to explain to someone who just lost a loved one that they need to focus on the fact that they are in a better place and we should be happy for them, be careful. A grieving Christian knows this to be true, but it falls hollow to the ear of the one hurting. It is as if this truth needs to come from within the mourner for it to make an impact in their heart.

Rattling off “Bible truths” with the purpose of encouraging someone who has just lost a loved one can actually create a bitterness in that person’s heart. Why? Because if we don’t allow the mourner to work through the natural process of agony, sorrow, pain, hurt, sadness, anger and questioning, then we might produce someone who looks like they are handling the loss well and yet inside they are developing a root of bitterness either towards God, someone else or life itself.

Speak your sadness to God. Share with Him how you are not sure you can live without this person. Maybe you need to just sit in silence with God and cry, thinking about the tremendous loss of this wonderful person you had in your life. God is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). God’s close presence in your life is exactly what you need in the midst of your grief, so don’t hide the fact that you are sad, but be honest with yourself and share your sorrow with others and with God.   

“God, I feel WORN.” Even the simple decisions seem too much for your brain. Small talk makes you want to scream (and you are screaming on the inside). Tiny household tasks send you back to bed or at least gives you a strong desire to take a nap on the couch.

You have no vision for the the future.

Your mind plays tricks on you in the present, making you forget all the things on your “to do” list.

Your heart wants to hide in the memories of the past.

God speaks to the reality of this feeling: “I am exhausted and crushed; I groan in despair” (Psalm 38:8). Another translation states, “I am completely worn out.” One more translation writes, “I am numb.” Maybe numbness is the best way to explain this emotion. There are times when the weight of the loss is so overwhelming that we refuse to connect to our emotions. We disconnect, feeling nothing instead.

In numbness, we hardly cry. We move the sad thoughts out of our mind immediately and busy our brains with something else. We believe that this is the right way to handle our loss, but it is the worst thing we can do.

Instinct shouts for you to bury yourself in distractions but not dealing with your loss will come back to bite you later.

It is natural to feel worn, exhausted and numb during the first few days after the death of a loved one, but you need to move beyond this feeling. It is not safe for you to stay here. We noticed one of our daughters settling into this numbness. Repeatedly, every chance we get, we tell her that it is okay to cry. And we cry in front of her. We show her that it is good to show emotion. She still doesn’t want to talk about it, but it is our job as parents to let her see the healthiness of crying and talking about how sad we are that grandma has passed.

Just telling God that you feel numb is huge. Because people who are numb do not want to acknowledge this dull pain they are feeling. Just understand that as you pray to God about this, it might open up the floodgates of anger. Although some people do not feel anger in the midst of grief, the path of anger is often necessary to pass through if you want to feel whole again after a devastating loss.  

“God, I feel ANGRY.” I visited my mom in the hospital just a few days before Easter. After a few hours, I told her goodbye and that I loved her. She mouthed these words, “Where are you going?” I told her that I was going to church. She mouthed again, “Why are you going there?” I explained to her that I needed to work on one of my sermons. She nodded, acknowledging that it was okay.

In that moment, I realized that I needed to tell her something. I looked at her and told her that Easter would not be the same without her cooking a big meal.

I started to list off all of the fantastic food she cooked,

“Mom, you make the best ham and ribs and cheesy potatoes and broccoli salad and pecan pie. You make our family gatherings so special, and I so wish that you would be there on Sunday to make us a meal.”

I paused in the middle of these words because I was holding back tears. In that simple moment of thanking her, I felt the fullness of my love for her. And then we had a moment I will never forget.

A tear trickled down her cheek. She smiled. She accepted my offer of appreciation to her. In that moment, the love between a mother and a son was known. She would make that meal for me a million times if she could. But her body wouldn’t cooperate. I would hug her a million times after eating that meal and tell her how good it was if I could. But there was no Easter meal to eat and there was no inner urge to celebrate. For life was departing her body, and I could tell that she was getting worse and not better.

Our family gatherings were special. In large part because of the care and preparation of my mom. She made a huge meal for 23 people. No one had to bring any food. As if all the food wasn’t enough, an hour after lunch she would bring out a candy tray for everyone. She knew how to make people feel loved.

We have gathered as a family serveral times since her death. But there is an empty place at the table that will never be filled. I don’t think I will ever get used to the fact that my mom will never again make me a meal on a Sunday afternoon. This thought makes me sad. And it also makes me angry because it just doesn’t feel fair.

My mom wasn’t young when she died. Almost seventy-five. But she also wasn’t really that old. I keep thinking about how nice it would have been to have five more years with her so that we could have more family gatherings with her, but that will never happen. When I spend time considering this reality, I become angry and feel a little bitterness take root in my heart. In these moments, my prayer to God sounds something like this:

“I’m not okay with her death, God. You took her too soon. I hate it with every fiber of my being. I wish You would have intervened and healed her. But You didn’t. We all prayed so much for her healing. But You allowed this to happen. I want to fix this and I can’t. God, I know that you tell me that you care about me, but it doesn’t really feel like it right now. God, I’m angry, but I’m trying to trust You.”

God wants our raw emotions. When it is just Him and you in the prayer room, why wouldn’t you tell Him how you are feeling? We act as if God can’t see into our hearts. He knows that I have feelings of anger, and He wants to hear me express those fiery emotions towards heaven. And when I do, I feel His love in return. Let me repeat that: when I share that I am angry towards God, He returns love and mercy to my heart. If you are angry about something, please release it to God, for He will trade it for His love and mercy, and you will be filled with peace.  

“God, I feel LONELY.” Have you ever been in a room full of people and yet felt like you were a million miles away? I have openly shared with many people over the last several weeks that I am not feeling overly social right now.

I lost my mom to death.

I did not spend every day with her, but I saw her every week.

I did not talk on the phone with her or text her every day, but I had that opportunity if I wanted.

I am lonely because I want a relationship with my mom and no one else on earth can give that to me.

There is no other person on the planet that can give me the same treasure of memories from more than forty years of motherhood.

One of the best gifts you can give a grieving person is discerning how much space they need. Some grievers need lots of space, while other grievers desire to be around people constantly. The gift is to let the griever have enough space and support to heal. I need plenty of space right now. I know someone who wants to always be around others. Both can be unhealthy if we don’t make sure that the space is sacred. We make the space sacred when we sit alone in the comfort of God.

Have you ever felt like someone was smothering you with so much encouragement you couldn’t breathe? Remember that a good friend encourages, but not too much. A good friend visits, but not too much. The griever needs time alone to sort out the tremendous loss. It is natural to feel loneliness when a piece of you dies.

“Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed” (Luke 5:16). It is good to venture into lonely places. But make sure the focus is not despair that produces depression. Make sure your deep thoughts lead you to prayer. Otherwise, you will sink further into a pit, and it will be hard to get out. You might not want to live too much in the land of the living when you are hurting because you notice that everyone around you seems to be enjoying life, but not you.

During the alone time, don’t keep your thoughts in your head, for your mind will tell you things that are not true. Your mind will lie to you and say that you will never be happy again, that your life is over, that no one really cares about you and that God is not real.

Too much alone time without speaking with God and you will become odd and bitter. 

Becoming odd means that you will lose the ability to fit into society and contribute the gift that God has given you. Becoming bitter means that you will resent those who have significant relationships in their life. But if you spend that alone time with God, you will become wise and sweet. Becoming wise means that you will comfort others as they also journey through a loss. Becoming sweet means that you will grant to others the grace needed to get through this messy and sometimes miserable life.

The choice is yours: odd and bitter or wise and sweet. Choose to be alone with God. For He is near the brokenhearted and He will help you heal your soul.

“God, I want to feel JOY.” When sadness, numbness, anger and loneliness are your constant friends, there eventually rises within you a desire to experience happiness. But this kind of happiness doesn’t come from our circumstances. This happiness is a deeper contentment. The Bible calls it joy.

In the midst of grief, one of the most powerful emotions you can hold onto is joy. You cannot create joy in your life. Joy happens when you allow God to comfort you. Allow me to explain with a story.

As difficult as it is to lose my mom, I have brief moments of joy when the Lord helps me realize the reality of eternity. I was mowing the lawn a few days ago and remembered how much my mom enjoyed mowing in the summer. She loved the freshly cut grass, the sun warming her arms as she steered around trees, the slight breeze on her face, the time to talk with God and consider a plethora of matters. For a moment, I thought, “I’m sure mom misses mowing.”

And then I caught myself. No. She doesn’t. She is in heaven experiencing the fullness and completeness of eternity. She does not miss mowing here on earth. She might be mowing in heaven, but that is probably far different from mowing on earth. In this moment, I swelled with joy. I was happy for her. She has reached her destination.

I am hoping the moments of joy will increase with the passing of time.

But for right now, the emotions of sadness, anger and loneliness fill much of my heart. I am not sure when joy will take over again, but when that time comes, I will welcome it with open arms.

Until then, I will speak to the God who understands and sustains me through it all.

FEAR of BAD NEWS


It is easy to call God good when things are good. But to look tragedy in the face and still believe wholeheartedly that God is good, that is faith.

God doesn’t always come through for you in the way you envision, pray or hope. The words of too many contemporary worship songs inspire us to believe in the impossible and then when we experience a real life tragedy we’re devasted. Too many preachers present theology in such a way that we think that if we have the faith the size of a mustard seed, then we obligate God to work on our behalf. But real life contradicts that kind of preaching. What we need to help us through tragedy is the fullness of Scripture in our lives.  

The older someone gets, the more they realize that they live within this general cycle: about to enter a trial, in the midst of a trial or recently got out of a trial. Yet, we never seem ready to go into a trial. The fear of receiving bad news can paralyze our minds. We spend many hours a day thinking about what “bad thing” is going to happen next. If you don’t struggle with this kind of anxiety, good for you. But I have seen many individuals struggle with this crippling nervousness.

Have you ever looked at the name of the person calling you on your phone and you freeze in fear for a moment because you dread what that person is going to tell you on the other line? You answer the phone call anyway because not knowing is also agonizing. If you have had to endure “receiving bad news” from various people and in different ways, then certain situations will trigger your emotions. 

Psychologists call the fear of receiving bad news anticipatory anxiety. When you cannot predict or control the future and it negatively impacts your daily life, then you need to face this fear and overcome it. Hopefully, the following story will help you find a way to free yourself from the fear of receiving bad news.  


My dad picked my mom’s favorite flower (Jewel of Tibet) and placed it at her grave.


At 7:55 p.m. on a Friday night, I received one of those dreaded calls. My sister called and said that they were taking my mom to the emergency room because she was having a hard time breathing. Fear sunk into my heart that night, but I tried my best to push it aside and believe for the best. The trip to the hospital was precautionary, or so I had hoped.

112 days. My mom spent 112 days in the hospital. When she first checked into the hospital, we were optimistic that she would be out in a couple weeks. But that first weekend she was moved into the Intensive Care Unit. A couple weeks later she was placed on the ventilator. A few weeks after that they placed a tracheostomy tube in her so that she could continue on the ventilator. She developed pneumonia several times. She fought sepsis a couple times. She started to get better and then would have set backs. We would receive positive news one day and then the next we would be given devasting news. 

In the middle of the 112 days, we discovered a verse in the Bible that encouraged us. We had no idea that my mom would spend 112 days in the hospital, so when we read the words of Psalm 112, we held onto these words not knowing that God, in His sovereignty, was preparing us. For example, we found Psalm 112 during February. My mom had been in the hospital for about fifty days at that point. There was no numerical connection between Psalm 112 and her spending 112 days in the hospital yet. This is what Psalm 112 states:

“They will have no fear of bad news” (Psalm 112:7).

Whenever my dad, my sisters or myself would receive bad news from the doctor or from lab reports, we would continue to hold onto hope. We were given bad news dozens of times during these 112 days, but we never remained in a place of fear.

We refused to allow bad news to shake us. Our hearts stood steadfast and secure. We trusted in the Lord. 

We met several doctors who had one hundred percent trust in medicine and the health care system, but zero percent trust in God. We also met a couple doctors that seemed to be believers. A doctor who is skilled in medicine and trusts in God can become one of the most powerful forces in our world. For God created medicine and He is the author of both natural miracles and supernatural miracles.  

Late one night, I was reading a report from one of the doctors. He didn’t give my mom much of a chance for recovery. At the end of his report, he wrote the words, “Prognosis is poor.” When I first read this three-word phrase, fear entered my heart. I envisioned an outcome that I was dreading. But then just as quickly as fear struck me, I was also given a peace that filled my heart instead. I had to make a choice in that moment. Will I fear the bad news, or will I trust God? Will I be consumed with terror, or will I rest in calmness that God is in control? 

The doctor was not God. He cannot determine the future. I am not God. I cannot determine the future. God is the one who decides what the future holds. 

Why should we have no fear of bad news? Is it because everything will turn out exactly how we want? No. Anyone who has lived long enough realizes that sometimes bad news turns into reality. In the midst of the unknown, God wants us to trust Him. But when we fear the bad news, we worry, we increase our anxiety levels, we fret about things we cannot change and we miss out on learning a valuable lesson: God wants us to rest in Him while we wait, wondering if good or bad will actually happen. 


Fast forward to day 112. The bad news turned into reality. My mom died. Why did God, in His sovereignty, allow my mom to live the last several months of her life in the hospital? Would it have been better if she would have died after ten days? Or a month? When I counted up the days in my head as I was driving home from the hospital that night, I couldn’t believe the number. So, I counted again. And then I counted a third time. My mind immediately went to Psalm 112.

In Psalm 112, we are told to not fear bad news. But how does that work? God is specific in how that is possible. 

Their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord. Their hearts are secure, they will have no fear;in the end they will look in triumph on their foes (Psalm 112:7-8).

Bad news tries to shake us, but if we have a relationship with Jesus Christ, we remain steadfast and secure no matter what happens. Even in those moments of weakness when we feel our emotions melting into a puddle on the floor, we focus our attention upon God and we trust Him to sustain us and take care of us in the midst of a trial. 

But you might ask, “God didn’t come through for you. He allowed your mom to die. Don’t you feel like God failed you?” 

No. Because my perspective as a Christian is not just what happens on this earth. Look at verse eight again. “In the end they will look in triumph on their foes (enemies).” In this case, disease and death were the foes. Disease and death won the battle. But because of my faith, I know that in the end, God will make all things right. I hold onto that hope that when I breathe my last breath I will see my mom once again and it will be for millions and billions and trillions of years with no end in sight. With this eternal perspective, death has been swallowed up in victory and no longer has a sting (1 Corinthians 15:54-55).

Let me rephrase that. I will feel the sting of my mom’s death until the day that I die. I miss her fiercely. But I know that I will see her again. I trust in my God because of what He DID (“He has risen” – Matthew 28:6) and what He SAID (“I am making everything new!” – Revelation 21:5).

I will see my mom again someday. I am deeply saddened because I wish she could have enjoyed this upcoming decade and watched more ball games, seen more graduations and taken more family trips.

We will miss her presence at our family events because she will be absent from my earthly life. But as a Christian, I must trust in Christ if I am to claim that He is my savior. 

It is easy to call God good when things are good. But to look tragedy in the face and still believe wholeheartedly that God is good, that is faith. And it is a faith that is steadfast and secure. 

I have found that God is a God of details. There is no coincidence that God allowed my mom to live 112 days in the hospital and then pointed our family to Psalm 112. You might be thinking how difficult it was to see someone suffering for that long. Yes, it was a long time in our eyes. But when you measure 112 days in view of the next life that is ever lasting, the 112 days are barely a blink. 

Most of those 112 days were exhausting emotionally and physically. They were filled with many tears and questions about the future. But during this time, our family had a peace that transcended our own human understanding. It is because we trusted in the Rock eternal.

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord himself, is the Rock eternal (Isaiah 26:3-4).