Some time ago I found the blog of a young woman who lost her husband to cancer May of last year. It is a gripping and very moving account of his illness and of her life following his death, and offers an open view of her grief.
In reading No-Sleep Tricia, a few things stood out to me: (1) Grief is in many ways like a long, protracted illness except – it’s not an illness. But it may act and feel like one. (2) A loss and its after-effects can leave a person topsy-turvy for quite some time. (3) Most people who have not (and perhaps also some who have) experienced a major loss are incapable of understanding or properly supporting another person through such a loss. (4) We are missing a really, really big opportunity to minister when we inadequately deal with friends and acquaintances who are struggling in this way.
We need a working theology of grief, with a like-informed practicum.
Though I’m guessing, I would say that the problem is largely four-fold: (1) We don’t, in general, really want to get to know others well enough, or let others get close enough, to enter into such a difficult situation with them. Because, (2) we don’t really know what to do. (3) We don’t realize the extent to which a trauma affects every facet of a person’s life unless we’ve experienced something similar ourselves. (4) We don’t want to step out of our comfort zones enough to be of real assistance.
These things only serve to make the grieved person feel even more alienated than they probably already do; a major trauma turns their world upside-down. Things are no longer the way they “should” be. Spouses “shouldn’t” die young; children “shouldn’t” get seriously ill and die; people shouldn’t have accidents or get terrible diseases. People shouldn’t abuse and damage one another. Everyone “should” be relatively happy. Yet parents of newborns, parents of handicapped or chronically-ill children, and people who’ve experienced trauma or illness often speak of feeling as if they are living in a different world from most everyone else.
And why is this?
I’m wondering whether it isn't the other way around. Is it the others -- those who either deny extreme difficulties or have never experienced them -- who are missing out on what life’s really all about? Are they missing opportunity to have their focus redirected to things that really matter? Are they missing potential for deep and lasting ministry to one another?
Really, we’ve got be available enough to meet the pain of our brothers and sisters, and not just to say a quick prayer. We must know and trust one another to know when there is real need, and be humble enough to both ask for help and offer it when needed. We give the concept of service a lot of lip service (and I do too), not to mention shallow or token gestures. But do we really give in proportion to the need?
And what of the idea of service from the needy person’s point of view? Most of us have probably had it battered into our heads that we must serve, serve, serve – others, that is – and so prove our faithfulness to God. But a traumatic event can leave a person feeling very inadequate with – *gasp* – nothing at all to give. He may feel less than respectable, less than valuable to the human race, or to God, in his great need.
But perhaps it’s really the needy person who has the greatest ability to serve – to serve others with insight, honesty, openness, and the opportunity for another to serve him as well. An equitable exchange of service.
We all know in theory that a person’s value is found, not in themselves or their circumstances or their daily work and activity, but in who they are, either in Christ or as a creation of the Almighty God. But do we live it? It’s not just the weak – physically, mentally, or emotionally – who have need. No one is so strong that he is not also in some sort of need! It is as honorable to be in need as it is to serve; as it is as honorable to be in emotional or mental need as in physical need.
It's also true that some people are not open to help. In such a case, one may still be friendly and available, and prayerful, but perhaps no more. And that’s OK. There are plenty of others waiting and hoping for a friend who’s willing to stick with them!
Do you know anyone who’s struggling? Go and offer your time, your ear, your care to them.
