When Grief Has No One to Sit With: Part 2

When Grief Has No One

To Sit With: Part II

      I can vividly remember during my first winter without Tiffanie, sitting on the edge of my bed, scrolling through my phone's contact list.  My contact list is quite long, well over 1000 people.  I had plenty of names.  Names of people who cared.  And yet I didn't call anyone or text anyone.  Not because I didn't need them, but because grief has a way of convincing you that your pain is something that you should carry alone.  That needing friendship is a weakness, that silence is safer.  Grief can be a great teacher, but it can also be a great liar.  Friends are needed in each season, but never more greatly than the season of grief.

      Without deep friendships, grief becomes internalized, it compounds, it spreads almost as if it was out of control. Pain has nowhere to go. Questions echo unanswered. Faith can feel distant when no one helps carry it.   Solomon wrote in Proverbs 17:17 “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.”  Many widowers discover that adversity reveals the absence of brotherhood they didn’t realize they lacked.  I know this was one of the hardest realizations for myself personally.  I looked at that list of people that I knew, but very few of them, if any would have been willing to jump into the warzone of grief.  I realized that while I knew a lot of people, that I had very few friends.

      Scripture does not glorify solitary suffering.  We are not called to be holy hermits. It calls us to shared burdens.  One of the verses that I memorized early in my ministerial calling was Galatians 6:2, which says “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”  Grief carried alone becomes heavier than grief shared.  It's like all things, the load is always harder to bear alone.  The longer you bear the burden alone the heavier it becomes, the more exhausted you become, and soon the deep dark clouds of solitude and despair come.  Grieving people, especially men cannot afford to live in Superman's Fortress of Solitude, instead we need a fortress of friendship.  We need to invite other people into our grief and fulfill what Paul wrote in 1st Thessalonians 5:11 “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up.”  Encouragement requires proximity. Building up requires relationship.  Son's of the Shepherd believes in the importance of proximity to those that are grieving.  We have a determined heart to remain.

      If you find yourself grieving without close friends, hear this clearly: You are not weak. You are not failing grief. You are not broken. You are human.  You are grieving in a culture that has not taught men how to build emotionally deep friendships.  God sees your isolation.  “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18)."  Even when friends are absent, God remains present. But His nearness does not negate our need for human connection, instead it often invites us toward it.

      Becoming a widower may mark the end of one relationship, but it can also become the beginning of deeper, truer connection.  It's a call to rebuild connections. This may look like joining a griefshare group, men's Bible study, or following our Son's of the Shepherd ministry.  It might look like reaching out to one safe person and speaking honestly.  It could also look like becoming the kind of friend you wish you had. “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another (Proverbs 27:17)."  Grief does not disappear when shared  but it becomes bearable and fulfills the Law of Christ.

      Grief grows heavier in isolation. Friendship does not remove the pain, but it helps carry it.  Widowers were never meant to walk this road alone.  And even if you find yourself walking it alone today, there is still hope — for connection, for healing, and for friendships deep enough to hold your grief.  If this resonated with you, you are not alone.  There are others learning how to grieve, connect, and heal together.  Consider this a safe place to grieve, finding healing, and see hope again.