By Chris DeWelt
“Mr. DeWelt?”
“Yes . . .”
“Mr. DeWelt, you need to come to the hospital. Your wife and family have been in an accident.”
“Are they all right?”
(Long pause) “Well, you just need to come right away. Please be careful in driving over.”
I had just walked in the door and found the phone ringing. It was early evening. It was late summer in 1990. It was very hot, even for southern Missouri.
Carol and the kids had gone to see Grandma 100 miles away. It was one last time before the new school year that would begin the very next day. It was Matthew”s sophomore year, David was entering the seventh grade, and Abby would be starting the first grade.
While they had gone south, I had gone some 50 miles north to speak at a small church in rural Kansas. My text was the 90th Psalm. My theme: “Teach us to number our days.” I had thought that the many elderly in that church would face the issue of death decades before I would. I could not have been more mistaken.
Arriving at the hospital, I found my wife and my two youngest children in the emergency rooms.
Almost immediately I was ushered to the “Quiet Room.”
“Mr. DeWelt, your oldest son did not survive the accident . . .”
Many came to the hospital that Sunday night, wanting to help, wanting to minister to us. Many others came later (and even many years later) wanting to help.
Our Experience
Here are a few things Carol and I learned through the gauntlet of grief. Perhaps these will assist you as you seek to minister to “those who mourn.” The lessons vary from person to person, but the themes are remarkably the same.
“¢ The grief process is from God. Were it not for tears and the ability to express them, we would certainly explode (or implode). It quickly became apparent that the healing of the soul through grief was as necessary as the healing of the body that my loved ones were experiencing after the accident. As with physical healing, pain is involved. As with physical healing, time is required. But unlike physical healing, the process can be resisted, pushed away, even frustrated. Tears (and all that goes with them) are indeed the “oil of the soul.” This is, in fact, a divine gift.
“¢ Grief comes in waves. The words of the song that say “when sorrows like sea billows roll” are more than just poetic language. One of the most helpful images that came to my mind in dealing with the intense pain of the heart was the simple realization that the pain itself ebbed and flowed. The mental image of standing in the surf of the ocean and feeling the wave push against your leg connected with my old California roots. I could choose to stand and resist the power of grief, or I could choose to lie down and let it flow over me, as it raced on past toward the shore. Grief will come and it will go. Like the waves, it will return to sea. The intense pain will subside. The waves will cleanse our souls and bring true healing.
“¢ Grief is not to be rushed. A well-meaning brother came to me (while my three family members were still in the hospital, and the funeral for Matt had not yet happened) and spoke about how I needed to find closure for this event. Wow. We may feel the need to have answers for the grieving. This results in attempting to rush processes that should not be rushed. To the one who is in sorrow, “closure” sounds like dismissal, and that is the last thing you want to do when you are still dealing with what “good-bye” means.
“¢ Grief is surprising. A scar will sometimes hurt, but most of the time it just sits there as a silent testament of its cause. When it does hurt, it can be very unexpected. The surprises of grief usually have triggers, though they tend to go unnoticed. If the loss has been a child, then when the child”s friends get married, graduate, do well in sports, go on to college, have their own children, or experience virtually any achievement, it is always bittersweet for the parent who tries hard to “rejoice with those who rejoice.” Our son”s memory is frozen in time, while his friends” lives have moved on. This is just one more aspect of the pain of death.
In fact the cycle of the year with its holidays and “normal” events serves to remind the bereaved that they are, indeed, bereaved. Healing comes through this, but the first year is hard.
“¢ Grief is a pressure cooker. A few days after the wreck, a minister friend asked me if I knew the percentage of couples who divorce when their child dies. It so happened that I had known of this before the event. The percentages are very high. My response to this somewhat poorly spoken word of concern was that I thought we would be all right; after all, we had been missionaries. By that I meant that Carol and I had been through a lot in the cauldron of cross-cultural service. “What does not kill you only makes you stronger!”
As with the pressures of living in a foreign environment, the sharpness of sorrow quickly brings things to the surface that you may not have known were there. The result can be good if you are prepared to deal with the issues that will arise. This is an important way for the body of Christ to minister to those who have experienced loss. The ways that such ministry can happen are diverse, but an awareness of the need is very important.
Our Advice
When you find yourself alongside someone who has been through devastating loss, here are a few words about what we and others have found to be helpful:
“¢ Don”t be afraid to bring it up. This is the “elephant in the room” issue. Everyone knows it is there; go ahead and say something about it. If you don”t, I probably will. This is especially true the closer you are to the event.
“¢ Give me a memory. One of the big issues of loss is we worry people will forget. A special friend or two went to Carol not long after Matthew”s death and told her of good memories concerning Matt, nothing like pitching a no-hitter or winning the National Spelling Bee. Just a simple memory. It meant the world to Carol.
“¢ Don”t worry about me if I cry. This goes with being afraid to bring up something that “might upset.” Often, people do not want to evoke evidence of pain. Don”t worry, I”m probably a lot healthier emotionally if I am willing to weep than if I am unwilling to do so.
“¢ Send me a note. We still have every note with a personal word in it. Don”t worry about saying just the right thing. Quote me a Scripture. Just say that you care. It”s not the content as much as it is the effort that matters, though the content can be inspiring to us. Notes often come, guided by the Holy Spirit, at just the time when a word of encouragement is desperately needed.
“¢ Come around later. Immediately after a big loss, the body of Christ springs into action in a wonderful way. We felt and knew the “net” of love that caught us and held us close to the heart of God. It was people. But often, after a few days, life goes on for everyone else, and the one who is grieving has many lonely days and empty moments. A month, two months, two years, even 20 years after the loss itself there are precious people who still say a word from time to time. As you respond to grief, be as unpredictable as the grief itself and you will be a big blessing.
“¢ Speak words of life. Certain Scriptures rang like bells in our hearts in the days and months following Matthew”s departure. Here are a few of them:
John 11:25, 26: “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. [Put your name in here.] Do you believe this?”
First Thessalonians 4:13, 14: We grieve, yes, but not like the hopeless.
First Corinthians 15:50-58: These verses were splashed with my own tears.
Genesis 25:8; 35:28, 29; 49:29, 33: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were “gathered to their people.”
Second Samuel 12:23: David”s grief about his son. “I will go to him, but he will not return to me.”
In many ways, this whole issue is about how God”s grace comes to us when we must have it. Perry Anderson, a minister in Greenwood, Indiana, was a classmate of mine in college. Recently, he shared with me about the incredible grace the Lord showed him following the death of his wife, Jill, to ALS (Lou Gehrig”s disease).
As is the case with long-term illness, he and his family were made to deal with grief issues before as well as after Jill”s journey home. He spoke of the power that has come to his words because of what he has experienced and how he can speak to people in ways that are deeply authentic.
May the Lord bless you as you find ways to speak and live out words that will minister and heal.
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Chris DeWelt is professor of missions at Ozark Christian College, Joplin, Missouri.
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