As I walked into church that first Sunday after mom’s death, I felt as though my presence parted the Red Sea. Instead of greeting me warmly in their usual way, people stepped aside. I knew they did it because they just didn’t know what to say, yet it magnified my loneliness.
My mother died in 1981, when I was a young pastor. Ten years earlier, not long after I become a Christian, I had the joy of leading mom to Christ. We grew together, reading and discussing Scripture and great books, praying and laughing together, and later fussing over my children, her granddaughters, Karina and Angela. When she died, I mourned my loss, my wife’s, and above all my children’s. I felt like part of me had been taken away.
As I walked into church that first Sunday after mom’s death, I felt as though my presence parted the Red Sea. Instead of greeting me warmly in their usual way, people stepped aside. I knew they did it because they just didn’t know what to say, yet it magnified my loneliness.
Many of us have seen friends disappear when we most needed them—and without meaning to, we’ve done the same to others. If you find yourself not wanting to make a phone call or send a note when you hear about someone’s crisis, remind yourself that any imperfect expression of concern is normally far better than none. When people lose a loved one, they don’t want to “move on” as if the person never existed. Even if doing so makes them cry, usually they want and need to talk about them.
“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15). We tend to do better at rejoicing. Because we don’t like to feel pain, we tend to ignore others’ pain. But they need us to become the arms of Christ to them—especially at Christmastime, which can be a difficult season for those who are undergoing loss, grief, or any kind of suffering.
Several friends have recently had their close loved ones die. I appreciate these five points from Vaneetha Rendall Risner, a dear sister who has experienced much suffering, on how to minister to others in need. Thanks, Vaneetha, for these sensitive and insightful suggestions. —Randy Alcorn
The week after my infant son Paul died, I went to pick up my two-year-old daughter from preschool. No one said a word to me other than “Here she is.” I realize they felt awkward, but the silence was crushing. I barely made it out the door before bursting into tears.
It’s hard knowing what to say when someone has experienced a great loss. Saying “I’m so sorry” feels trite, so it’s easier just to say nothing. But for those who are suffering, silence hammers the hurt even deeper, especially during the Christmas season when the ache of loss is intensified. The weight of tragedies — the death of a loved one, divorce, disease, divided families, depression, and disaster — can all feel heavier at the holidays, as the festivities acutely remind us of what we have lost.
I have buried a child, endured four miscarriages, gone through an unwanted divorce, parented troubled teenagers, and continue to deal with a painful deteriorating disability — so I understand how difficult this time of year can be. While each person and each loss is unique, from my experience, here are five suggestions for caring for those who are suffering at Christmas.
1. Acknowledge the loss.
Having someone simply acknowledge your grief can be a gift in itself. Though our suffering friends may never mention it, the sadness of the situation will be a constant backdrop throughout the season. When we verbally recognize their loss, it shows we notice and care. Our words need not be deep or profound; just recognizing the ever-present reality of their pain can be encouraging.
Subscribe to Free “Top 10 Stories” Email
Get the top 10 stories from The Aquila Report in your inbox every Tuesday morning.