How could I express the anguish of watching the body of my firstborn be lowered into the cold ground, the agony of choosing the words that will be carved onto his gravestone, the torment of knowing that behind his still-closed bedroom door is all that evidence of a life lived and lost? Truly, the sorrow is not only beyond description but also beyond my own comprehension.

“How are you doing?” I’ve been asked that question countless times since my son went to be with the Lord. I never really know how to answer it. While at that exact moment I might be doing okay, it’s possible that 15 minutes prior I was so overwhelmed with sorrow that I could barely stand. It’s possible that 15 minutes in the future I’ll be reveling in the joy of knowing my son is safely home in heaven. I can go from joy to sorrow and back again in moments. How am I doing? Most of the time I don’t even know. And if I myself don’t know, what hope do I have of expressing it to anyone else?

I’ve found help in a proverb that addresses my inability and perhaps my frustration with that inability. Proverbs 14:10 says, “The heart knows its own bitterness, and no stranger shares its joy.” I take that to mean that some sorrow is so bitter, so painful, so deep, that it simply cannot be expressed to anyone else. Sometimes there are, quite literally, no words. We can press into the proverb a little more to consider why this is. It must be because the one experiencing the sorrow cannot articulate his grief even to himself. It’s the heart that knows its own bitterness, not the mind, not the tongue. This grief is lodged deep in the soul, inexpressible by mind or mouth.

Though I am a writer by trade, though words are my currency, I still lack the ability to express the deep sorrow of losing a child. How could I express the anguish of watching the body of my firstborn be lowered into the cold ground, the agony of choosing the words that will be carved onto his gravestone, the torment of knowing that behind his still-closed bedroom door is all that evidence of a life lived and lost? Truly, the sorrow is not only beyond description but also beyond my own comprehension.

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