After my husband’s funeral, my sister asked, “What should I say to a grieving friend?”
“As little as possible,” I replied.
Many friends shared meaningful condolences at Ed’s funeral, but I’d already heard the common Scriptures and platitudes during his two-year cancer journey. I wasn’t in the mood to hear more. What meant the most was the presence of friends.
We long to take away a friend’s pain, but nothing we can say can make it better. Sometimes my attempts result in bumbling words that sound coarse or ridiculous. Other times I may ignore a friend’s hurt because I don’t know what to say. But turning a blind eye to pain is even worse than saying the wrong thing.
Here are some things I’m learning about supporting a friend—whether at a viewing, in a hospital room, or in a sympathy card.
What To Say:
“I am sorry.”
Don’t pretend it isn’t awful and attempt to sugar coat their grief. Acknowledge their loss is devastatingly terrible, and you wish it were different.
“I’m praying.”
If it is true, there are no better words. I often didn’t feel capable of praying, and was relieved to know others were praying.
Consider praying out loud. One friend asked if she could pray for me at the viewing. You can pray on the phone, in a text message, or in a card.
We often forget to continue to pray for ongoing grief. I cried when a lady I barely knew told me I was still on her prayer list, three years after Ed’s funeral.
“I remember…”
Some of the most meaningful words spoken to me after Ed’s death were memories of Ed, especially ways Ed had blessed their lives. Most people want to talk about their loved one, so don’t avoid using their name in conversation. I also loved when friends wrote down memories for me to reread later.
What NOT To Say:
“At least…”
We all want to look on the bright side and count the blessings. “At least it is treatable.” “At least he didn’t have to suffer long.” “At least you had twenty years together.” “At least he is in a better place.” Those things may be true, and some day your friend may see the blessings, but saying “at least” can minimize their pain or shame their current state of grief.
“God has a plan.”
When faced with a tragedy, we want some higher purpose. Acknowledge that evil brought suffering to the world, and, though God can redeem our suffering, He didn’t create a world with accidents, cancer, and death.
“All things work together for good.”
We love stories of how God took something terrible and brought about good through it, such as Joseph, Elisabeth Elliot, and Corrie ten Boon. But when your friend’s life has crumbled, quoting verses like these can also feel cold and heartless. I preferred verses that acknowledged grief such as “God is near to the brokenhearted.”
“God won’t give you more than you can handle.”
The Bible shares stories of humanly impossible situations such as Gideon, David, and Elijah. Cancer, widowhood, and solo parenting were my Goliaths, and I needed assurance that God would walk with me through events I couldn’t handle alone.
“You are so strong.”
I was glad I didn’t fall apart at Ed’s cancer diagnosis, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to care for my six children even when I felt like staying in bed. When told I was strong, I couldn’t be honest about how weak I felt. Your friend doesn’t need more pressure to pretend she is capable.
“Have you tried . . .”
Of course you want your friend to find a cure, but please don’t give health advice unless you are asked. If you had the exact same diagnosis and have personal experience that may be helpful, share the information with a family member (not the sick person themselves). Then support whatever decision they make.
What To Do:
Be Present
One of my friends said she didn’t know what to do or say because she had never experienced deep grief. But when we were sitting by Ed’s bedside on the last week of his life, she stopped in several times and gave the gift of presence.
Cry
Jesus wept at the death of Lazarus, even knowing Lazarus’ death would lead to resurrection and God’s glory. Never underestimate the value of shutting your mouth and weeping with those who weep. After Ed’s diagnosis, I had friends call on the phone who were unable to speak through their tears. Not everyone is a crier—I’m not—but at Ed’s viewing, I valued tears more than words.
Ask thoughtful questions
Asking, “How are you doing?” is better than ignoring their pain, but consider asking specific questions such as, “What is the hardest adjustment of losing your husband?” “How are you sleeping?” “What worries do you have?” “What do you miss most about your mom?”
Not everyone is comfortable sharing deeply, but many long for a trustworthy friend who is willing to truly listen. These aren’t questions to be asked flippantly when walking out of church. Choose the right time, the right place, and the right words.
Help
When friends asked if we needed meals or other help, I often declined. I was either too proud or bull-headed to accept help. But thankfully, friends still brought food, sent checks, and helped in many practical ways. I don’t know how we would have survived without casseroles in our freezer and financial help.
A widow’s need for casseroles may abate, but the practical needs around the house might grow in upcoming years. One of my widow friends appreciates toolbox-toting friends who offer help with minor house repairs.
Walking with a grieving friend can and should look differently for each person, but if you share tears, a hug, and prayer, your friend will feel loved, even if you don’t know what to say.
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This post was shared first in Commonplace: In the Company of Friends, published by Daughters of Promise Ministry
I'd love to hear how friends walked with you in your stormy days.
