Silence
“Knowing there will be times when you are blindsided with grief—that misery will overwhelm you at the most unexpected and often inappropriate moments and places—puts you in a better position to weather the grief ambush when it next happens.”
Quote by Lucy Hone, PhD
Grief. Whether it comes early in life or later in adulthood, it stirs up deep and complex emotions that can be hard to make sense of in the moment. It may come through the death of a loved one, a medical diagnosis, a broken relationship, unmet expectations, financial hardship, or a major life transition. Every human being experiences it, regardless of age, background, or denomination. Grief touches every one of us, and yet each of us grieves differently.
Simply recognizing that grief is present is an act of emotional strength. We can face what grief brings, even when it doesn’t feel like it. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, a Swiss American psychiatrist best known for her book On Death and Dying, observed that “the most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths.” We never stop learning, and grief, painful as it is, can become one more place where we learn and grow in courage.
Still, growth through grief doesn’t happen on our schedule, and it doesn’t happen every day. Finding our way out of the depths takes time, and some days we are still in them. And that’s okay. As Christians, we often carry the message that we should always be growing in our faith. So what happens when grief blindsides us and we find ourselves standing still, or even slipping backward, in our walk with Christ? Our first instinct is often alarm. Then comes shame. We turn inward and begin to believe the lie that we have failed as Christians.
But Scripture tells a different story. “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). God doesn’t stand at a distance waiting for us to get our faith back on track. He draws close to the brokenhearted. David cried out, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1), and God preserved that lament in Scripture for us to pray too. Grief is not evidence that we have failed God. It is part of being human in a broken world. Standing still in grief is not walking away from Him. Sometimes it is simply where He meets us.
Grief will catch us off guard. It has no timeline, and it doesn’t move in a straight line. A song in the grocery store, an empty chair at the table, or a date on the calendar can bring it all rushing back in an instant. When grief ambushes you like that, it’s okay to step away for a moment. Excuse yourself, step outside, or sit quietly in your car. Take a few slow breaths and let the tears come if they need to. You might pray nothing more than, “Lord, I’m hurting.” Stepping away isn’t weakness or a lack of faith. It’s making room to feel what’s there instead of forcing it down.
The Holy Spirit not only stays with us in our grief; He also helps us when that grief becomes hard to put into words. There may be moments when our sorrow runs so deep that we don’t know what to pray, when our emotions overwhelm us, or when we simply can’t describe what is happening inside us. Romans 8:26 reminds us that “the Spirit helps us in our weakness” and intercedes for us when we do not know what to pray. What a beautiful picture of God’s care for us in grief. We don’t have to find the right words, and we don’t have to hurry past our sorrow. The Holy Spirit meets us in our weakness, comforts us in our pain, reminds us of God’s truth, and helps us keep walking with Christ, even when grief makes the walk difficult.
When grief leaves you without words, where do you find yourself leaning?
Bible Verse:
Romans 8:26
Additional scripture to reflect on:
Psalm 34:18
Psalm 13
John 11:35
1 Thessalonians 4:13
Psalm 39
2 Corinthians 12:9
Reflections
What losses, big or small, have shaped you, whether in childhood or adulthood?
When grief shows up, what emotions do you notice first? Which are hardest for you to admit?
Have you ever felt that grieving meant you were failing as a Christian? Where do you think that belief came from?
How might God see your season of “standing still” differently than you do?
When grief catches you off guard, what helps you step away and catch your breath?
When you’ve had no words to pray, what did you do? Where did you turn?
What would it mean for you to believe you don’t have to find the right words or move quickly past your sorrow?
Where have you seen the Holy Spirit comfort you, remind you of truth, or help you keep walking, even when it didn’t feel like much at the time?
