I make a left onto Middle Road while talking to my father. I tell him that I am going to a funeral. “Again,” he replies with surprise in his voice. He knows how many funerals I have attended, participated in, or officiated this year. “Yes, again,” I confess.

The drive to the church is not long, less than five minutes. Soon, I park in the open space behind a growing column of cars along the jagged wall of rocks. Exiting the car, I put on my suit jacket and notice other people walking towards the little church with a big heart. The church is on my left. The cemetery is on my right. For a moment, I am reminded that I walk between the living and the dead.

The moments that precede a funeral service are special and significant in their own way. I enter the fellowship hall where the family has gathered. Some are seated in the organised rows of folding chairs, no doubt feeling an assortment of emotions. Others are standing around them in groups of three or four, talking, laughing, hugging, and comforting. It’s a familiar scene to me. Those I do know come quickly to greet me. Those I do not know give a gentle glance up and down, assessing whether or not I am a member of the family.

After the family has been greeted and prayed for, the funeral home directors instruct the family as to how the procession will go. I stand fourth in line, the family behind me, and three ministers in front of me. Slowly we walk to the rear entrance of the church. The priest in charge asks the congregation to stand, then proceeds to recite Scripture passages, establishing the solemn occasion.

As we walk slowly down the centre aisle, I reflect on the conversations I shared with the person whose life we’ve gathered to remember. We shared a love for the musicality of language, family, faith, and the grace of God. His body had been weakened by sickness. Though in pain, he pointed to themes of hope, often sharing transparently about how far the Lord had brought him.

Once, while visiting him in the hospital, he shared that the physicians had done all they could do, that it was only a matter of time now. As a pastor, those one-on-one moments of private exchange stick to my heart. As often as I come alongside people in the sunset scenes of their lives, it never becomes easy walking down centre aisles towards a casket, urn of ashes, or mounted photo when so recently you made eye contact and held conversation with a living, breathing person.

Alas, I am aware that my thoughts probably pale in comparison to those behind me. A wife, now a widow. Children and grandchildren, now left to reflect, recall, and remember. What are they all thinking? What are they all feeling? The family, in their mourning, represents that strange admixture of strength and weakness. Strong because they can walk. Weak because they weep while they walk. And this is OK. This is human. To walk and weep at the same time, this is grief.

The service begins, and just when we needed it the most, a song is sung. The lyrics of the song, so powerfully emoted, call pastors and people alike to stand in affirmative praise. Although this hour of sorrow extends for many nights, we believe that joy will come in the morning. Yes, “we shall behold Him face to face in all of His glory.”

Together, we will learn to hope and grieve at the same time.

What is grief?

Grief is not one thing, it is many things.

Novelist Jamie Anderson says: “Grief, I’ve learnt, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”

Sometimes, love is unspent because of the inefficient use of time. At other times, love was given generously and consistently, but there still was not enough time to spend all of the love one had to give. However much love is left in the bank of one’s heart becomes grief, unspent love.

Grief can also be unresolved matters of the heart. Several unchecked items on the bucket list, conversations never held, confessions never offered, commitments never made, hopes unrealised, and dreams deferred.

Once, during a grief support meeting, a gentleman and member of my church began sobbing. He’d recently lost his wife to cancer. He said, “Who am I going to list as my emergency contact?” Realisations like these are grief.

Grief may sound like an individual repeating the same story about a loved one in one sitting without recognising that they have repeated themselves.

I have learnt that crying is not the sole expression or primary expression of grief. Some people stand at the gates of cemeteries with cigarettes and beer bottles in their hands, to fumigate and intoxicate their sorrows away. Some people stay away from the funeral itself, finding it too burdensome to bear.

However, they attend the wake and busy themselves in the serving line making sure each guest has sufficient portions of rice, potato salad, cassava pie, fish, and macaroni and cheese. Still others maintain a stony countenance, difficult to read. What does it mean? Stay at a distance or leave me alone. Or is it, sit with me and help me feel this moment. And then, of course, there are those who use a handful of tissue to dab a runny nose and unending stream of tears.

Grief is not one thing. Grief is many things.

Practical steps for grievers

Proverbs 14:10 says: “Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy.” Indeed, we experience emotions individually. How joy feels to me is different from how joy feels to my wife. Grief for your sibling will feel differently from how grief feels to you. Even though we experience emotions differently, we can still support one another.

Grief is an experience composed of various phases or stages including the loss itself, denial or protest, anger, bargaining, despair or depression, sadness, and resolution or acceptance. These stages do not necessarily progress neatly and there is no set timeline for how swiftly or slowly one may journey from denial to acceptance. But, there are ways in which you can be aware of each stage and respond to them. Here is what certain stages may sound like in your mind:

Denial or protest: “This can’t be happening to us.”

Anger: “Why is this happening? Who is to blame?”

Bargaining: “This must have happened for a reason …”

Depression or despair: “I’m too sad to do anything.”

Acceptance or resolution: “If I could change it, I would. I’m learning to live with peace one step at a time.”

How to cope with grief?

Learning to navigate the stages of grief can feel like learning a new language. It is common to feel like you are not doing it correctly. Give yourself grace and remember these six ways you can cope through the various stages of grief:

1. Acknowledge your pain. In the early stages of grief, denial is common practice. It is OK to acknowledge that you’re not OK. Pain is not wrong. Pain is real.

2. Accept that grief can trigger many different and unexpected emotions. You may feel frustrated because you do not feel like you are grieving the right way. You may discover that you feel emotions that you have not been previously familiar with. This is new. Give yourself grace and be gentle with yourself.

3. Understand that your grieving process will be unique to you. The grieving process is not one-size-fits-all. People who have experienced similar losses may be able to provide counsel, but their experience is still not your experience. Your grief imprint is unique to you.

4. Seek out face-to-face support from people who care about you. Isolation may be preferred, but it is not always optimal. In-person conversations with those who care about you are vital to your emotional health.

5. Support yourself emotionally by taking care of yourself physically. One of the best things you can do is take regular walks. Your movement routine does not have to be aggressive or taxing. But, a steady increase in heart rate and blood flow helps your mind.

6. Recognise the difference between grief and depression. If you cannot distinguish between the grief and depression, it is perfectly fine to consult a therapist.

Practical steps for grief supporters

You may not be experiencing grief right now, but it is likely you know someone who is and would like to support them. You can find yourself lost for words. Or you can find yourself paralysed by the desire to say just the right thing at the right time. This can lead to silence or over-talking. Be encouraged. Your desire to support is good, and you can benefit from these helpful tips in supporting a loved one through grief:

• Don’t let fears about saying or doing the wrong thing stop you from reaching out

• Let your grieving loved one know that you’re there to listen

• Understand that everyone grieves differently and for different lengths of time

• Offer to help in practical ways

• Maintain your support after the funeral

• Practice active listening

• Do not rush to teach or correct

• Admit when you do not know

• Know that grief does not only follow death, but also losses of different kinds

• Be gentle with yourself and those around you

• Lastly, never underestimate the value of presence. You will not always have the best words to say or need to say anything at all. The gift of your presence is often the best gift you could give.

And yet, we hope

Although the cycle of grief comes in waves, it can be used to fuel positive change. People have created scholarships in honour of loved ones, organised sporting events, written novels, finished degrees, started businesses and charities, orchestrated concerts, designed clothes and shoes, filmed movies, travelled the world, and run half marathons to raise money for cancer research. They permitted their grief to accomplish good and inspire others along the way.

In their book How People Grow, Christian psychologists Henry Cloud and John Townsend say: “Grief is God’s way of getting us through and past things. And we need others to help us do that. Therefore the Bible says, ‘mourn with those who mourn’ (Romans 12:15). If we do that, people find out that it really is true what Jesus said: ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted’ (Matthew 5:4).”

I sat on a bench with a friend who was going through a difficult time. His body language and tone of voice betrayed the fact that the current moment in his life weighed heavily on him. After a series of loosely connected attempts to state how he had been feeling, he turned to me and asked: “How long will this struggle last?”

Perhaps his question resonates with you. I say to you what I say to him: “I do not know how long it will last, but I do believe you can grow through it.”

References

Cloud, Henry and John Townsend, How People Grow: What the Bible Reveals About Personal Growth. Zondervan, 2004, 228-231.

“Coping with Grief and Loss: Stages of Grief, the Grieving Process, and Learning to Heal” — HelpGuide.

“Helping Someone Who’s Grieving” — HelpGuide.

“How to Support Someone who is Grieving” — Cruse Bereavement Support.

• Richard D. Martin is the pastor of Devonshire Seventh-day Adventist Church