Dear Christian, You Have Permission to Grieve
My personal experience as a Christian navigating pain and loss in a Church that doesn't know how to let people be sad
Greetings Glory Carriers!
I accidentally published this post before it was ‘ready’ a couple of weeks ago (working out the kinks of learning a new platform), and so I un-published it until it was. For anyone who may find this post relevant or could share it to someone who would, here it is. I pray it will be a comfort and a help, and even a glimmer of hope to the grieving souls who need it.
My Bewildering Experience of Loss
I had always known (in theory) that the holiday season was a difficult time for many. But it wasn't until I experienced the loss of a loved one myself that I really understood what it meant. I faced head on the painful collision of a grief-stricken heart - and all the unruly and unpredictable cocktail of emotions that go along with it - and the holiday season, which brought with it a tidal wave of questions:
How am I supposed to enter into 'the most wonderful time of year' when all I feel is the pain of missing my loved one? What am I supposed to do - grin and bear it? Or boycott the festivities all together? How can I possibly feel joy when sorrow has forced its way, like an unwelcome intruder, into the home of my heart?
These were some of my own questions in those first few Christmas and New Year celebrations after losing my beloved mom, Becky, to cancer in 2017, whose departure from this earth left one of the biggest holes my heart has ever known. No longer having my mom led to a landslide of ‘secondary’ losses no one can ever prepare for: from losing a part of myself, to losing my closest companion, my confidant, my cheerleader and the 'central hub station' of our entire family. Mom was the faith-filled anchor from which we all happily tethered our boats, keeping us safe and afloat in the ever-changing storms of life. Not only that, but this loss of my own mother came just months after becoming a mother myself.

The onslaught of the intense grief that followed was like a foreign invader to my heart and soul and I had not a clue how to navigate it. It didn’t help many of my dear Christian brothers and sisters didn’t seem to know either how to support someone through grief, giving them permission to feel what they needed to feel. It is no one’s fault, it is just something that has not been taught or modeled well in the recent history of the church.
Christians, I Discovered, Are Not Very Good at Grieving
I was shocked how many people told me I should be ‘rejoicing’ over my mom’s departure from earth and entrance into Heaven. Platitudes like: ‘Well at least she is in Heaven now’ and ‘It is Heaven’s gain’ and ‘God is in control so it must have been His timing’ did nothing to comfort, but only to enrage my hurting heart. Though well-meaning, there seemed to be a complete loss of ability and capacity to allow someone to feel the deep pain such loss inflicts on a soul. I cringe at how unhelpful my own words, attitudes and actions had been to other grieving souls.
I needed someone to tell me that it was OK to feel sad, to cry, and to take time to allow myself to feel and process the hurt. And that it is not a lack of faith to show and do these things, but is precisely what believing faith does. It bears witness to the reality of loss and the devastation it brings in its wake, crying out in anguish,
‘The world is not as it should be! Death is not the way it is supposed to be!’
There couldn’t be a more biblical expression of grief (just read the Psalms and Lamentations to start!). It is the expression of the pain, confusion and bewilderment of loss that paves the way for the truly Good News of the Gospel to set it. But we cut short its meaning and power if we don’t acknowledge that the painful and real severance of love demands an honest and accurate response. Otherwise, aren’t we just pretending?
Of course, as Christians, we know it is not the end of the story. Not even close. But we do a disservice to ourselves and others if we skip over the hurt to get to the hallelujah. That is a denial and a disgrace to the strong bonds of love that were severed (even though temporarily) by the (very real seeming) finality of death.
That is a little of my story (and some of my musings on dealing with grief). What is yours?
What Are You Facing?
What kind of loss are you facing right now as we travel through the final week of 2024? There are death losses, losing a loved one through physical death, and there are ‘living’ losses - those things that don’t encompass physical death, but a loss of something dear, like ...a marriage... a once happy child... a dream... health…trust in a close relationship... a feeling of peace and safety in a chaotic world.
In this post, as we enter the final weekend of the year, I'd like to offer first, a prayer for the brokenhearted; second, a tip to navigate a grieving season; and third, an invitation to partner up for the grief journey.
First, a Prayer for the Brokenhearted
I wrote out this prayer a few years ago while serving as a prayer liturgest at my church. It was only a year after losing my mom to cancer, so I remember how raw it felt as I struggled to string the words together from my own broken heart. It is a simple prayer, but while writing it, it reminded me that God’s heart really is so tender and soft towards the brokenhearted. I remember silently weeping as I read the prayer, feeling somehow the weeping heart of Jesus pour through me that night. As Psalm 34:18 puts it:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
May the words of this prayer wash over you, reminding you of the tender heart of our Lord towards you and your situation, as we continue through Christmastide and head into a New Year:
Heavenly Father, we thank you that this week marks the end of this year and the beginning of a new one. We have come through Advent, a time of waiting, watching, preparing, reflecting, remembering, anticipating, and hoping. A time when we look back in celebration of Your first coming…while at the same time looking forward in eager anticipation of Your coming again.
Father, we desire to enter fully into this New Year, focused and unfettered. We want to slow down to reflect, pray and ponder who You are and what You have done for us in sending Your Son to us. And yet, we confess our inability to do so on our own accord, on our own strength. We confess our weakness, our short attention spans, our selfishness, our sin and our succumbing to the pull of the hustle and bustle of the holiday season. We ask for Your forgiveness, Lord, in all the ways we fall short… and for Your help this New Year, in keeping You at the center of our waiting and our wanting.
Father, we also bring before you all of those for whom this time of year is difficult. Please be especially near to those in our midst who are battling sicknesses, grieving the loss of a loved one, are alone, struggling to provide for their family or to rebuild their lives after the destruction of war or devastation of natural disasters. Bring Your healing Presence and Your hope-filled touch to all who are beaten down, broken, and barely surviving, we pray.
Finally Lord, I ask that today and in the weeks ahead, that You would renew us, refill us, and reveal to us a deeper sense of what the coming of Your Son, means. For Jesus is Immanuel–God with us–the greatest gift we all can receive… the ultimate healing salve in our seeking and in our sorrow. In Jesus name I pray, amen.
If you'd like to learn more about God's enormously tender and merciful heart, I highly recommend Dane C. Ortlund's Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers.
Second, a Tip for the Grieving
If you're in a season of grief and mourning, you may wonder how you should approach the dawn of a New Year. Sometimes we feel as if we should do things as we've always done. This is the 'just grin and bear it' approach. We stuff all our emotions down and pretend like everything is ok when really, it is not. This may be the right approach for some. There really is no 'right or wrong' answer here, for everyone's grief journey is unique, and so is their path to healing.
But as I have had the privilege of learning about grief through my own journey and training as a coach to walk with others through theirs, I have observed that people often need permission to do things differently. This might mean forgoing some of the normal rituals and traditions that involved the loved one who died, or it might mean adapting usual celebrations depending on what the family feels up to doing - of anything.
It doesn't mean you have to change things permanently, but for this year, you may prefer doing less of the usual fanfare, as you give yourself space to grieve and walk through the painful emotions of missing the presence of your loved one, or processing through emotions of any kind of loss you are facing. That is completely OKAY.
Third, an Invitation - You Are Not Alone
You don't have to walk the journey of grief alone. Many people in your life won't know what to say, or they'll give you their best 'pep talks' telling you what you should do to feel better. After all, it is time to 'move on' and 'get over it' isn't it?
Though this kind of advice is most often well-meaning, it is not always helpful. What we most often need and crave, is a safe space where we can take all the time we need to process through and express 'the really really' of our grief, which encompasses the roller coaster of various emotions such as guilt, anger, regret, shame, relief, fear and so many more. And we need to give voice to what we are experiencing and to do so in a non-judgmental setting.
That is where grief coaching comes in. It is a relationship that provides a safe and supportive space where you have permission to do and say anything (yes, anything!) you need to as you courageously face the pain of your loss, instead of suppress, ignore or avoid it.
Feeling angry? Confused? Hurt? Sad? Resentful? Abandoned by God? Good! These are all components of the painful (and unpredictable) web of emotions that are part of the grief journey.
It is never easy to let them out, but 'letting them out' really is one of the biggest steps towards healing you can take. Are you ready to take a step?
Why not take a moment and schedule a FREE consultation so we can chat and assess if grief coaching may be a good fit for you. I would consider it an honor to meet you where you are and hear your story.
In the meantime, check out these other books, which have been a blessing to me in my grief journey:
A Grief Observed, by CS Lewis
Turn my Mourning into Dancing, by Henri Nouwen
Disappointment with God, by Philip Yancey
Hope in the Dark, by Craig Groeschel
A Grace Disguised, by Jerry L. Sittser
Finding Beauty in the Crevices of Pain, by Felicia GY Lam
Coach Yourself Through Grief, by Dr. Don Eisenhauer
As you give yourself permission to grieve by facing and feeling the pain of your loss, remember, Jesus was himself “…a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.” (Isa 53:3). He knows what you are going through. Lean into him and he will bring you along the path towards healing, one step at a time.
The pain and loss itself won’t go away, but he is able to help you absorb this pain into your soul in a way that expands it, rather than crushes it. It will somehow deepen your capacity in the most beautiful and profound ways to love and care for and relate to others in this fallen world. It is a mystery how it happens, but when we walk hand in hand with the Author and Creator of our souls, courageously facing and feeling our pain, he supernaturally enables us to find hope and joy again, even alongside our deep sorrow.
Hang in there, my friend. And do reach out and share your story if it would help you. I would love to hear and share a bit of the burden you are carrying.
“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” (Romans 12:15)
May God Comfort Your Heart and Home in Your Grieving,
Ali
I'm so sorry you were let down by the church in your time of grief. Platitudes and empty glossing over deep sorrow aren't okay. Christmastime and New Years especially is the time when we should embody Jesus' presence, "God with Us". I'm afraid, instead, we get preoccupied with getting things just right. I'm glad you are the presence for others who now need permission to grief and lament a loved one's loss their own way.