I was 11 years old when my best friend, Becky, was killed in a sudden, tragic accident. I didn’t have the mental capacity to fully understand the implications of grief and how it affects a child; much less how it could affect me later in life.
Becky’s accident happened on a Wednesday evening. And because we lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone (almost as effective as cell phones and social media), my mom got a phone call about the accident. At that point, Becky was still clinging to life. After a sleepless night, my dad and I were up early Thursday and turned on the radio.
The local DJ’s words that dreadful morning were something along the lines of, “Teachers and school counselors are preparing to start their day today with one less student as an 11 year old student lost her life…”
And I don’t remember much else; except that my dad held me as I screamed, and he sobbed alongside me.
But it was during the first moments after learning of Becky’s death that my father taught me a couple of things. And these are things I have come to appreciate more than I can express.
Lessons Learned in Grief
What my dad may not realize is that in those moments, he was teaching me. He was teaching me things that would stick with me into adulthood and, eventually, lead me into a career that serves the grieving.
After learning of Becky’s death, my dad modeled two things for me that I have carried with me throughout my life.
God Is with Us in Sorrow
First and foremost, through my dad, God became more real to me in my sorrow than I ever knew Him to be. I cannot think of sobbing on the couch while my father held me and not remember how indescribably holy it was. My dad’s mere presence—the fact that he entered my anguish over losing my best friend—was nothing short of God demonstrating that He was real. That He cared about my heart ache and that He loved me.
I’d like to pause right here and let you, as children’s ministry leaders, know that I fully recognize that some of your students are growing up in supportive, Christ-following families. But not everyone has parents who are able to care for them spiritually. Many of you ARE the spiritual ‘fathers’ and ‘mothers’ of the children who are in your care.
Thank you. Thank you for stepping in to be the presence of God for these precious children.
As I write I wonder, what might it look like to be a holy presence when one of your students in your own ministry is grieving?
Maybe it’s just showing up; maybe it’s holding a hand; maybe it’s offering to pray. Whatever it looks like, I want you to know that, when you are near to the broken-hearted, by default, you are near to God. Your presence is important, even if it’s just for a few minutes.
The Action Bible Anytime Devotions
The Action Bible Anytime Devotions
The Action Bible Anytime Devotions
Enter into Grief with Others
The second lesson I learned all those years ago is that it’s ok to ‘enter into’ grief with others. Although he didn’t know Becky as well as I did, my dad didn’t shy away from my pain or try to minimize it. He didn’t attempt to fix it or offer empty words of comfort that might have felt dismissive.
Instead, he sat with me in my grief on that Thursday morning and for many confusing days and months ahead as the reality of losing Becky continued to weigh heavily on me. Dad simply allowed himself to feel the weight of my loss. By doing so, he showed me that grief doesn’t need to be hurried through or avoided.
Leaders, you don’t have to know exactly what to say. Sometimes, there is nothing TO say. Sometimes, all that a child needs is to know that someone understands their pain and is choosing to enter that pain with them. The tears you cry with your students, even if no words are spoken, will be remembered in the years to come.
Isn’t it beautiful that we are in the very season when we remember Immanuel, “God with us?” God IS with us. He is near to the broken hearted, and He is near to you when you are ministering to the broken hearted.
Prayer
Lord,
Our hearts ache when those we are ministering to have aching hearts. I ask that you would be near to precious ministry leaders who are walking with their students through very hard things. Give them wisdom to know when to say something and when it’s best to not say anything at all. I ask that you somehow allow gut-wrenching moments with these children to be remembered as holy moments. Holy moments when your unshakable presence provided a solid ground for which they could walk, hand in hand, down the excruciating road of grief and loss.
Immanuel, God with us.
Lord, be with.
Lord, be near.