Life Hurts.

How to Grieve in a Godly Way

In his great wisdom, King Solomon sat down, pen in hand and wrote: “There is an occasion for everything and a time for every activity under heaven…. a time to weep and a time to laugh. A time to mourn and a time to dance. (Ecclesiastes 3:1,4).  Roughly one thousand years later, Jesus looked at the pain on Mary and Martha’s face, pain and confusion as they processed the death of their brother Lazarus, and the Bible records that “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35).

Life hurts, and when it does it brings grief with it. Grief is a strange emotion.  Crying feels shameful.  We fight back tears and when we can’t fight them any longer, we tend to run towards isolation.  Crying seems so unnatural. And maybe, in one sense it is.  Revelation 21:4 describes heaven for us, a place where God will “wipe away our tears.” Picture your Heavenly Father, walking up to you in a place of total restoration, wiping away your final tear.  How do I know it will be your final tear?  Because the verse goes on to say, “death will be no more, grief, crying and pain will be no more.”  Heaven will be a place of no tears.  In Heaven, tears will be unnatural. 

And if we are born again, believers in Christ, we are citizens of heaven, living on earth.  That makes our tears feel so…unnatural.   We know we are heaven bound, heading to a place where there will be no more tears, and yet we are left in this place where pain, hurt and tears are a constant reality. 

It is no secret that our family has suffered tragic pain and loss.  We struggle daily as we process the pain of losing Greyson. Truth be told, we’ll probably never “heal” in a way that we’ll ever be satisfied.  The pain will always be present.  The hurt will always be fresh.  The tears will always come rolling.  Life hurts. Death hurts.

When we adopted Greyson, we began saving for his funeral.  Go back and read that sentence again.  Imagine the emotional swings that we felt as we celebrated Grey coming into our family, while simultaneously putting money away because of the all too painful reality that we were aware of when we adopted him.  We knew that grief, hurt and heartache were in our future.  We prayed and prayed and prayed that God would intervene and that we would not have to bury our son.  But God said no. That hurt us, deeply.  That hurt my wife deeply.  That hurt Mason deeply.  That hurt me deeply.  How could God say no?  Didn’t he know that saying yes would have brought him so much more glory?  Didn’t he know that if he would have just done things the way I wanted him to do them, things would have been better?

Did you catch it?  Didn’t he know that I know better?  In my hurt and in my pain, I was convinced that I knew what was better for Greyson than God did.  The Lord was patient with me.  He didn’t chastise me like he should have.  He didn’t punish me and put me in the corner.  He let me vent.  He let me cry.  He let me accuse him.  And then he gently, and softly reminded me: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, my ways are not your ways.” (Isaiah 55:8).  My heart began to realize that on April 21^st, 2021 Greyson was not healed from his cancer.  But he was eternally healed from disease.  The Lord reminded me that while Greyson cannot return to me, I can one day go to Greyson (see 2 Samuel 12:16-23). God reminded me that Greyson isn’t here anymore, but he’s just somewhere else.  

And while Greyson may be eternally healed, we are not.  Perhaps you too have suffered the stinging loss of death of a loved one, or a debilitating disease or a devastating storm.  Maybe you are like us, and you are grieving.  And you wonder, “how long will I have to grieve?”  The bad news is life on earth is full of grief.  If you are like me, you have days where grief is heavy and days where it is lessened.   Not every day is filled with grief and not every memory brings with it a torrent of sad emotions.  In fact, many memories bring smiles and laughter. 

The question remains: How do we survive our toughest days?  How do we survive those days that are so heavy that it feels like we won’t make it?  I’m certainly no psychologist or counselor but I can tell you that in my life I have lost much and grieved much.  We suffered a miscarriage in 2005 and we were told we could never have biological children.  I have an estranged relationship with my father. We have the pain of a lost foster child whom we thought we would adopt. My wife deals with horrendous pain in her lower legs due to extreme blood clots many years ago.  This has obviously affected her in a much greater way than me, and I don’t at all intend to imply otherwise.  However, it has impacted our family. I have been betrayed by close friends. I have been hated, cussed at, lied about.  And of course, we buried our two-year-old after he passed away from a battle with leukemia.  At his funeral, I felt burdened that I could not ask anyone else to preach his funeral.  And so, prompted by the Lord, preaching with grief in my heart, and tears in my eyes, I preached the funeral of my son.  It was the hardest sermon I have ever preached.  I beg God that I never have to preach another one like it again. I don’t mention that for any other reason except to say this: I have experience in grieving. It’s an area that I hate being an expert in, but it’s a road I’ve grown accustomed to walking, along with my family. So, how have we survived walking the road called grief? Here are a few basic tips we’ve learned for surviving your toughest days:

• Be honest with yourself: If you are having a hard day, you don’t have to smile.  Yes, there is joy in being a follower of Christ.  But Jesus wept.  There are seasons to weep.  Be honest with yourself and cry if you need to cry. It’s ok, even if you’re a man.
  
• Be honest with those around you:  One of the commitments Karla and I made to each other after Greyson died was that we were going to be authentic with those around us.  If we were sad and grieving, we weren’t going to put on a happy face.  That goes the other way too.  I felt the pressure to grieve on occasions when I wasn’t grieving.  But I had made a commitment that I wasn’t going to pretend to grieve if I was joyous.  Be honest with those around you. It’s ok to be joyful.  It’s ok to grieve.  It’s ok to be ok.  It’s ok to not be ok.
  
• Be honest with the Lord:  He is so gracious and kind.  I was brutally honest with Him.  And he was so kind in return.  Be honest with Him.  And watch Him in His kindness comfort you and gently restore you.  Tell him how you feel.  Your Father in heaven loves it when you confide in Him.
  
• Don’t be afraid of Help:  Counseling is good.  Medicine is good.  I know, I know, every student taking a Biblical Counseling degree class at any SBC seminary is about to email me telling me that medicine is useless.  Yes, I know, there was a study recently published that demonstrated that depression may not be linked to a chemical imbalance in the brain.  I know.  I hear you. I know what your professor said. I know what your textbook says. I can only tell you from personal experience that medicine has helped me.  Incredibly.  And it has helped my family.  Incredibly.  And counseling has helped my family.  Incredibly.  Don’t be afraid of help.  Seek after wisdom, seek advice.  And get help. Don’t write it off.
  
• Sit in the moment:  My tendency would be to feel the emotion of sadness and run.  Truth be told, I don’t like sadness and grief.  I want to get away from it.  So, if I feel it, my default is to make a joke, watch a funny show or do something to take my mind off of it.  But that isn’t healthy for me.  There are times when I need to remind myself to sit down and feel the feels. It’s ok to sit in the moment.  There is, after all, a season for weeping.
  
• Leave the moment: Karla’s tendency is the opposite.  She doesn’t enjoy feeling sadness, but her tendency would be to sit in the sadness and stay there.  Truth be told, she would sit in the moment and Satan would do his best to ensure she never left.  That’s not healthy either.  True, we need to sit in the moment.  But we also have to get up and get moving.  There is a season for weeping, but, after all, there is also a season for dancing.
  
• Get in the Word:  You can’t survive grief apart from the survival guide for grief.  Establish (or continue) a daily pattern of being in the Bible.  You need the Bible. 
  
• Stay in Prayer: You can’t survive grief apart from your constant connection to the Lord.  Don’t hang up the phone.  Stay connected to the Lord via prayer.
  
• Get in Church: Satan is going to try to convince you that church is worthless, especially in seasons of grief.  He is a liar.  You need church. You need to worship, and you need to be under the right preaching of the Word of God. 
  
• Get in Fellowship: You need people.  You’re going to need shoulders to cry on and people to laugh with.  You need godly fellowship to survive this life. 
  
• Family: Your family needs you.  You need your family.  As husband and father, I know my wife and son need me to lead.  But that doesn’t mean that I don’t hurt, grieve or cry.  They need to see my pain.  They need to see my hurt.  They need to hear my heart.  And they need to see me model submission to Jesus.  They need to see me boldly declare that we will follow Jesus, because our ways are not his ways.  They need to see me lead in godliness and in holiness.  They need to see me lead in grief.  They need to see me lead in healing. This is the way. 

That’s how we have survived.  Truth be told, we’re still learning.  Grief is heavy and some days are heavier than others.  But, nearly sixteen months after the passing of Greyson we can say the same thing we said sixteen months ago with complete confidence:

God is good on our good days.
God is good on our bad days. 

To God be the glory, great things He has done.
To God be the glory, great things He will do.