Almost seven months ago, a couple's loss cut me so deep, I couldn't stop thinking about them. I couldn't stop crying for them. I couldn't hardly think. When someone would ask, "How are you doing?", I really didn't know. I was just sad for Molly and Abraham. They had suffered through the loss of their little baby girl, Felicity, who was born still and silent and beautiful and flawless. I wanted to do something, but felt any attempt to reach out to them would be futile and maybe even self-centered...as it might make me feel better somehow, but still leave them longing for the little girl that no person could replace.
You've been there. Closer. Standing by your suffering friend. All words that come to mind seem so incredibly trite and useless. All the actions you come up with don't bring that suffering to an end. In your heart, you join in the grief and pain, but feel like it's a sacred thing you're supposed to keep a distance from, perhaps. You want to bring comfort, and yet, allow for open grieving at the same time. You fear that by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, you could actually grieve your friend even more.
A few weeks ago, Molly started writing a series called, "How to Help Your Grieving Friend". It's touched the lives of so many grieving women. It's incredibly insightful and helpful to those who are suffering alongside. This series is a window to what is likely going on in the mind of your grieving friend. I encourage you to read along and be blessed by this series.
Also, somewhat unrelated, here is one of my favorite posts ever. It's also by Molly. If I could have, I would have written it myself. But, alas, just know that I agree. I want you to feel welcome here.