So, you’re probably reading this because when you read the title a face appeared in your mind. Someone in your life who has been obstructed with loss. A special person who has had their world torn right from under them, and are sitting, processing, and trying to work through it all. Having been that person on more than one occasion, I have come up with ways that I wish people had treated me during my grief. This may be a controversial list and you may have a different approach and that’s okay. It's not much wisdom I offer, but I’ll share the bit I have through the lens of God's love.

Grieving is defined as “feeling deep sorrow”. There is no asterisk that specifies at the bottom of the page that this only occurs during the loss of a loved one. Grieving can cover a great deal more than that - it can be the loss of a relationship, the loss of a valued job, or even the loss of a season of life. We all grieve for different circumstances, for different lengths of time, and differently in the way we actually express it. So, the first step is to approach without judgement. Without preconceived ideas of how you think people should be acting. Approach your person with an open mind and no stake in how things should proceed.

If you’re like me, when you have someone in your life who’s mourning something they’ve lost, you will ask yourself, should I even bring it up? What if they don’t want to talk about it and get mad. What if they start crying and it’s super awkward. Reader, I’m going to tell you a secret, it’s okay to ask. When you ask you’re declaring that you are interested. That you remember that life isn’t easy right now. You haven’t forgotten. The reality is they might not want to talk about it and they’ll say so, but if the situation comes up and they really need to express something, then you are the person who’s listening and is there. That’s valuable. Very valuable.

Once you start this conversation and you’re listening, to show your commitment you will try to establish relatability. This is awesome, however I wouldn’t begin anything with “when my ____ was experiencing this they did ____” or “you may be feeling like _____ but I know _____ who had it much worse”. You may be beginning this thread of the conversation with the best of intentions, but really what it feels like you’re saying is that what I’m feeling isn’t important. You have changed gears and made the conversation about you. It’s okay to insert your experience, but do so with caution and turn the conversation’s focus back to them and most importantly….

Validate their feelings. If I learned anything from the loss of my father it’s that grief is messy. It’s complicated and it comes and goes; healing is a process that absolutely isn’t linear. Some days are great and the sun is shining and you think to yourself “I can do this”, and then others you’re crying in your senior year government class. You win some, you lose some. Even two and a half years later I sometimes have to take a moment to sit and reflect and call my mom. The person who will tell me that it’s okay that I’m angry, that it’s okay that I’m not torn to pieces, or it’s okay that I’m irrationally irritated at my friend for talking about her father. Validation makes others feel like you’re listening and that you hear them, and that it’s okay to not have it figured out. While validating though, maybe skip over the “I know how you feel” line because in all reality we each grieve so differently that only the Lord really knows how they’re actually feeling. Us, not so much.

Okay it’s time for real talk, the best thing you can do is drop the platitudes. Not even joking. We as people have this instinct that tells us when others aren’t being authentic. They will detect the obligation that is felt behind each one. No more “it’s going to be okay”, “time heals all wounds” and my favorite “you’ll be stronger after this”. We say these because we don’t know what to say, but maybe it’s better to say nothing. Because you don’t want to be the person that belittles their feelings by trying to sum up their grief into a single line. Not fair to them to feel like they shouldn’t be feeling the way they are.

Maybe you’re now asking them “what can I do to help”. This question is filled with so much love and sincerity, but it really won’t be that effective. Not many people will respond with “you know actually…”. Asking for help is the worst and they’re probably worn out and honestly want to sleep and pretend nothing ever happened. So, reader, don’t ask if you can do anything, just do something. Go bring them their favorite coffee, mow their lawn for them, write them that sweet note to know that you’re praying for them. Actions will speak louder than that question ever will.

You may be tempted at some point to say “I think that it’s time you start thinking about moving past this”. Nope. There is a point when grief just takes over everything and leaves people paralyzed for years, but most of the time that is not what is happening. But, if so, it might be time to speak with a medical professional. If not, then consider that this person is living their difficulty every. single. day. You are not the one that has to come to terms with anything. You have the privilege of being the bystander, not the savior, but the friend. So, realize that a few months to you is a blink of an eye for them.

At the end of the day though we’re all screwed up and we do the wrong thing. So, it’s okay if you see yourself doing some of these things because that’s just life. All that really matters is being there. Being emotionally, mentally, and sometimes physically present. You will most likely just be listening or hugging or wiping away tears, but those are the moments that bond you to them. You may not be giving advice. Only a reminder that you love them, and that you are here willing to pray over their hurts. You won’t be the healer, but the comfort because that’s what God has called us to be. To be there. To walk through the uncomfortable side-by-side, and leave Him to pick up the broken pieces along the way.