How Grief Is Different Than You Think

Originally Published September 2021

In the past, I often thought grief was one of those things that older widows get trapped in – like perpetually parading in frail bodies and sunken faces in yet another scene from The Godfather movies. A metaphorical entrapment and a great exchange for any hints of happiness. So naturally, I never allowed myself to be emotionally available for that. But there is a healthier and more mature way to engage with grief. And it requires a very different perspective than we often think.

A book on the perspective of grieving is, “Finding Meaning: the 6th Stage of Grief,” by David Kessler. Although an inclusive but secular view, I appreciate how Kessler not only gives numerous vulnerable examples from his life and professional interactions, but he also gives the reader permission to be present with his or her grieving emotions. It is noted that when grief often feels overwhelming, it is a temptation to either be stuck in pain as to honor the loss, or try quickly moving past the pain before it entraps.

This is what I find to be true of many that I sit down with – either personally or professionally. There is something good about not wanting to experience pain. It demonstrates our innate desires to see the world holistically functioning – and we notice it viscerally when it breaks. Yet we have a necessity that drives our grief into the realm of pain. Symptoms remind us that we have a need for peace and satisfaction amidst a world that is broken and we have limitations to our control. As a Christian, these moments highlight my need for trusting Jesus and His work to heal and restore what is broken – be it my heart, or this world.

I think one can only fully process grief – and pass through that storm – when able to fully feel the impact of the loss. This does not mean that a specific formula for “how to grieve” exists, but the expectation is to be able to see the grief fully on both sides of what it represents. Deep loss is both sadness and a valuation of someone or something meaningful.

Recently, my wife and I were able to sit with some good friends whose 19 year old daughter was killed in a car accident earlier this year. Deep wounds do not mend easily or quickly. The mom was able to share her journey of grief and how she is constantly reminded each day in many, small ways of her agonizing loss – yet also able to interact with her husband and other adult children about the joyful memories that surface around the meaning they have with their child & sister who is now gone.

I was struck with the notion that how profound and necessary it is that grief requires two elements from us if we are to know and survive such emotional depths. Grief holds the emotions of rejoicing and lamenting. You see, if one cannot find the joyful meaning in the relationship that is now lost, it will result in being stuck in a black pit. Also, if one cannot lament and feel the loss in grief, then s/he is just pretending to be ok with a false hope.

I had no intention of detracting from our friends’ sharing their story, and was in fact hesitant about doing anything that may encourage feelings different than what they wanted to feel. But I found myself engaged vulnerably as I listened to their tragedy and perspectives, and I could not help but cry and hug them as the only meaningful way to love them.

The Bible verse (Romans 12:15) “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep,” is not just a postcard script. I find it in God’s grace that we are reminded that emotional health requires such vulnerability in all of us – so that we may connect in our moments of needed support. To be known is not just a social matter. Being known is a vital dynamic of our emotional and spiritual being in relationship with Self and each other.

I wish we could all be spared the torment of deep pain and grief, but I know that is not true of this life. However, I do wish that when you do find yourself in painful moments in life, that you will allow yourself to courageously know the vulnerability of rejoicing and lamenting so that you may grieve well.