Ten Things I’ve Learned While Sifting through Grief    

Different people react to grief in different ways. Understanding how sorrow may affect us can help us through our own grief and help us know how to encourage a grieving friend.

I don’t claim to be an expert, but here are ten things I learned about grief from my own experiences:

1. Grief takes a surprising amount of physical energy. Dealing with intense emotions can drain our strength. You may need more than the usual amount of rest for a while.

2. Some people may temporarily experience sleeplessness, night-mares, lack of appetite or greater appetite, fear, increased anxiety, or various other difficulties. These are "normal" for people working through grief, but if they continue or become overwhelming, ask for help.

3. It’s okay to be angry. Some people may feel anger towards those who caused the death of their loved one—the drunk driver, the terrorists. Others may feel anger towards the illness, like cancer. Some even feel angry with their loved one for leaving them alone, for making them face the future without them, for dying. Others are angry at themselves for that last argument or forgetting to say, "I love you." Some become angry with God.

These feelings are natural and are not wrong. Anger is not sin (see Ephesians 4:26), but what we do with it can be wrong. Revenge is never right, and harboring anger in our hearts will lead to emotional, spiritual, and even physical problems. Instead, I want to encourage you to find a way to "vent" or express your anger in wholesome ways.

Talk to a friend, a family member, or a counselor. Join an organization to fight drunk driving. Look for ways to help our nation in difficult times. Raise money for cancer research.

Write your deceased loved one a letter telling him how you feel, how much you love him, or whatever you didn’t say. Visit her room or grave site and talk to her out loud. And talk to God. Be honest. Tell him how mad you are at him, but don’t stop there. Ask him to help you work through all your feelings.

4. Some of your friends may say dumb things . . . but they mean well. I remember one lady telling me, "You must forget your brother and move on." Forget my brother?! At the time, he hadn’t been gone twenty-four hours!

Other people don’t say anything at all or disappear from your life because they don’t know what to say. Any of these actions can be very hurtful.

When I was the one grieving, I finally discovered I did much better when I gave people a break—when I chose to forgive them for hurtful words and to assume that their intentions were good.

As I’ve watched my friends grieve, I have found myself saying dumb things. I want to say something to make things better but, unfortunately, there are no magic words. If you’re trying to comfort a grieving friend, realize you don’t have to say the perfect thing. Just your presence, a touch, or a tear communicates your love and concern.

5. Once you think you’re doing better and begin venturing out into the world again, your grief will hit you when you least expect it. Driving past a familiar scene, hearing a church bell ring, the smell of grapefruit in the produce department—anything can suddenly remind you of your loved one and the intensity of grief can overwhelm you.

Again, this is a "normal" part of the grieving process. Don’t worry if you well up with tears or begin weeping in public. Those around you will understand—probably more than you’ll know.

6. During the first year, you will experience a lot of "firsts"— your first anniversary, first birthday, first Christmas, and other first holidays without your loved one. Other firsts may include the first time you go to the movies without your loved one, plan a trip by yourself, or dine solo. And, of course, there will come the first anniversary of your loved one’s death.

Try to anticipate difficult times like holidays and make plans to do something special —preferably with friends, family, or other people around. Holidays or personal anniversaries are no time to be alone.

Some people experience "anniversary grief"—feelings of sadness, depression, anxiety, or other emotions around the anniversary of the death. These may be on a subconscious level. For years I felt a vague sense of sadness and despair around my birthday that I could not shake and did not understand. I didn’t connect it with my brother’s death until someone explained "anniversary grief" to me.

7. Someone, maybe you, will need to take care of the deceased person’s estate—their property, bills, and assets. It helps to know up front that this process takes a long time—often at least a year. Ask for help, especially with all that legal stuff.

8. Somewhere I read the average person grieves for a full two years after the death of a loved one, so give yourself plenty of time to recover. However, if you or someone you love is struggling after that, consider asking for help.

Of course you need not wait that long. Take advantage of organizations and services that can help. To find them, check with the funeral home, a church, a counseling center, your doctor, the phone book, or the internet. One reputable organization is New Life Ministries (1-800-NEW-LIFE). Visit their web site at www.newlife.com and look for "10 Tips for Healthy Grieving" under "Free Tips."

9. Your whole world is different, but that doesn’t mean you will be sad forever. After the death of her husband, I once heard a woman ask her friend, "Will I ever laugh again?"

Her friend wisely and immediately answered, "Yes. YES!"

Don’t give up. Hang in there. It does get easier.

Okay, maybe you don’t garden, but here’s what I mean: The Saturday after the Attack on America, I took my radio into the garden to stay abreast of the latest news as I planted fall bulbs for spring flowers.

As talk shows discussed possibilities of future terrorist attacks, biological and chemical warfare, and other possible horrors, the thought suddenly occurred to me that I may not be here next spring to see the very tulips I was planting. After all, those people who boarded planes or who went to work at the Pentagon, the World Trade Center, and New York police and fire stations that Tuesday morning fully expected to be here that afternoon, let alone next spring. Will I still be here? I wondered. Will our society still be here? Will our nation still be here?

Maybe I shouldn’t even bother planting, I thought. I paused for the briefest of moments.

No, I determined, I am going to plant these bulbs. I am planting them in faith, expecting to be here next spring to see the flowers.

I planted the bulbs.

Whatever it is you love to do, make plans to do it—next month, next season, next year. With God’s help, determine to survive. Trust God to carry you through whatever this life dishes out. He won’t let you down.