Loving the Grieving: Holiday Edition

Loving the Grieving

Holiday Edition

      Christmas is a season built around the Good News.  It is meant to be a season of joy, celebration, and togetherness.  Grief feels like a third wheel during the holiday season.  Grieving around the holiday can be awkward and trying to communicate with someone at Christmas dinner or at the local social function might feel heavy or complicated.  You probably want to talk to them, trust me, they probably want you to talk to them, but you aren't sure what to say or what to do.  So, instead of communicating with the hurting person we avoid them, which adds hurt to injury.  For those who are grieving, Christmas Day can feel painfully quiet, heavy, and isolating. Empty chairs are more noticeable. Traditions can sting instead of soothe. Smiles often feel forced.  This isn't the season to avoid the grieving, it's time to engage them.  

      If you know someone who is grieving this Christmas, you may want to help—but feel unsure how. The good news is that you don’t need perfect words or grand gestures. What grieving hearts need most is Christlike presence.

      One Christmas song boasts 'It's the most wonderful time of the year.'  I understand the sentiment, but after losing my wife one month before Christmas I can honestly say that I don't view Christmas quite the same way as I used to.  O', it's wonderful in that Christ came to this world to save sinners, but it's not wonderful in the way that it once was.  The tree doesn't shine as brightly, presents don't appeal to me, songs on the radio aren't jammed out as loudly.  The grieving person struggles because they know this is a cheerful time of the year, but one of the hardest parts of Christmas for a grieving person is the unspoken expectation to be cheerful.  There is an unsaid pressure to put on a smile, sing songs, go wassailng, and make merry.  While others are celebrating, the grieving may feel pressure to “push through” their pain.  Scripture reminds us that Jesus does not rush sorrow. “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). Even knowing resurrection was coming, He paused to mourn with those who were hurting.  Give grieving people permission to feel what they feel, even on Christmas day. Let them know it’s okay if Christmas is hard. Simply saying, “I know today might be heavy—I’m thinking of you” can be deeply comforting.  Let them cry, don't ignore their tears, hurt with them.

      Many people avoid the grieving because they’re afraid of saying the wrong thing. But silence and absence often hurt more than imperfect words.  Romans 12:15 calls us to “weep with those who weep.” That passage is incredibly brief.  You could memorize it before you finish reading this post, but it's hard to practice.  Sometimes the simpliest of verses to learn are the hardest ones to put into practice.  This verse doesn’t require explanations or solutions—only presence.  A text, a phone call, or stopping by briefly can communicate love. You don’t have to fix anything. Just being there says, “You are not forgotten.”

      One of the greatest fears for someone who is grieving is that the person they lost will be forgotten. Hearing their loved one’s name can be a gift.  You might say, “I was thinking about how much your mom loved Christmas,” or “I miss seeing him laugh during the holidays.” For me personally I like when someone comments on how a person decorated for Christmas and say "Tiffanie would have loved this."  These moments acknowledge that their loss is real—and that their loved one mattered.  Those moments can sometimes unlock memories that had laid dormant for quite some time.  It can create a flood of emotions, and maybe even a few tears, but the person grieving will probably be comforted to know that other people are thinking of who they are missing too.  God Himself remembers. Isaiah 49:16 tells us we are engraved on the palms of His hands. When we remember someone’s loss, we reflect His care.

    Offer specific help instead of generic help.  Sometimes generic products are perfeclty fine, other times they are a poor choice.  When you offer aid to a hurting person be very specific.  Instead of saying, “Let me know if you need anything,” try offering something concrete:

• “Can I drop off a meal?”
• “Would you like company for part of the day?”
• “Can I take care of an errand for you?”
• "Do you need help cleaning up after Christm?"
• "Can I help wrapping presents?"
• "I will swing by and shovel your driveway."

      Grief is exhausting, and decision-making can feel overwhelming anytime of the year but grieving complicates the most normal and predictable of days.  Imagine the stress of Christmas being compounded by losing a loved one! Specific offers make it easier to receive help without guilt.  The grieving person needs help, but doesn't want to be a burden.  This relieves them of asking and makes them feel like you were already making them a priority before your offer.

      Christmas is the celebration of God stepping into our broken world. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).  But let me give you a word of caution, be careful not to rush people to hope. That might sound confusing to you and it might make you cringe.  What I'm saying is that a person doesn't need you to preach, they need you as a person.  Avoid phrases that minimize pain, even if they’re theologically true.  Good theology is vital for the person to heal, but it needs to be timed well.  Instead, gently remind them that Jesus entered our grief, walks with us through it, and holds our future securely.  Hope does not erase sorrow—it carries us through it.

      Grief doesn’t end when the decorations come down. In many ways, the days after Christmas can feel even lonelier.  I have personally experienced this.  Everyone is readily available during the Christmas season, but then it becomes silent again.  Make a note to check in after the holidays. Continued love reflects the faithfulness of God, who promises, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).  Christmas Day may look different for those who are grieving—but your kindness, presence, and compassion can reflect the heart of Christ in powerful ways. You don’t have to take away their pain. You only need to walk with them in it.

      Sometimes, the greatest gift you can give is simply reminding someone that they are not alone—and that Emmanuel, God with us, is near, even in the deepest sorrow.