When Grief Has No One to Sit With: Part One
When Grief Has No One to Sit With
One of my least favorite things to do in the entire world is moving. I can't believe that in the next five months our family will be moving again. I swore we would never have to lug any heavy furniture ever again, but alas here we are. Moving is a task that is way too big to be done alone. If you're interested in helping me move at the end of May let me know, just kidding, actually not kidding! Grief likewise was never meant to be carried alone. And yet, for many widowers, loneliness is not just a side effect of loss, it becomes a second loss layered on top of the first. When a wife dies, a man doesn’t just lose his spouse. He often loses his primary emotional confidant, his daily companion, the one person who knew the weight he carried and helped him hold it. For widowers who already lacked deep friendships, grief becomes heavier, quieter, and far more isolating.
My future father in law shared a statistic out of Canada. The results were quite startling. In 1986 47.9% of Canadians were spending time with their friends, but by 2022 that number dropped to 19.3%. Within one generation we've seen a nosedive regarding friendships. The results in America are even more dire. One study showed that less than 10% of men can name their best friend, other than their wife of course. That 9 out of 10 men that honestly couldn't name their best friend. When a man loses his spouse his world shrinks significantly. His best friend, and probably his only friend passes away, and all of us a sudden the emotional ground falls out from the man.
The sad reality is that many men enter widowhood without a circle of emotionally safe friendships. Their relationships may have been built around work, activities, or shared interests rather than vulnerability. Conversations stayed surface-level. Pain stayed unspoken. I can say that this hit me hard in the first few months after losing Tiffanie. I've lived in within an hour of my hometown my entire life. I know literally hundreds if not thousands of people. It's rare for me to go out in public without recognizing someone. I was surrounded by people who were familiar with me, felt sympathy for me, but they were not part of that 'inner circle' of those that mourned and grieved with me.
When loss hits, there is no one to text at 2 a.m. No one who knows how to sit without fixing. No one who checks in beyond the first few weeks. Grief does not simply need time, it needs witnesses. Without friendship, widowers often grieve alone in silence, or they suppress their emotions rather than process them, or they feel like they are a burden if they speak honestly, or saddest of all, they experience intensified loneliness, depression, despair, and even question the value of their life.
But why does friendship matter so much to those that are grieving? First because Scripture consistently shows us that God never designed suffering to be endured in isolation. “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up (Ecclesiastes 4:9–10)." Grief is more than a mere fall, it is the crumbling of life as we know it. It's like watching a building being detonated. And many widowers fall with no one nearby to help them stand again. It's like the proverbial quote, if a tree falls in the woods and no one sees it, does it make a sound? Of course it does. It's a law of nature. The same can be said about a widower. Are they hurting even if they aren't expressing it or you see it? YES. Friendship provides something grief desperately needs. First it provides those that are grieving with presence. By presence I mean someone who stays. That's why Son's of the Shepherd does. We are a ministry committed to be present with men as they grieve. Another thing that friendship provides is permission to speak honestly without judgment. This is a second tenent of Son's of the Shepherd. I want to cultivate a culture of grief that is a safe place with no judgment. Thirdly a friend provides perspective. By that I mean reminders of hope when life seems dark. That is another key proponent of Son's of the Shepherd, to provide hope and healing through Christ. And finally friendship provides protection against isolation, an isolation that quietly erodes that soul. Son's of the Shepherd wants to protect men from isolation. 1 in 400 young widowers commits suicide. One is too many, and most are preventable if someone would just walk with grieving men.
Even Jesus, fully God, chose not to walk alone. “I no longer call you servants… Instead, I have called you friends (John 15:15)." I am constantly in awe of this passage of Scripture. Jesus invites us into friendship with Him. This is the God of creation, the second person of the trinity, the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world, and He puts for a hand of friendship to a broken sinner just like me. Even in His deepest moments of sorrow, Jesus invited friends to be near. “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me (Matthew 26:38)." If Christ Himself in His humanity asked for companionship in grief, how much more do widowers need it?
Reflection Questions
1. As you sit with the Lord, where do you feel the weight of loneliness most in your grief—and what does that place in you long for that you have not yet voiced to Him?
(Psalm 62:8 — “Pour out your hearts before Him.”)
2. Jesus asked His friends to stay with Him in His sorrow (Matthew 26:38). What emotions rise in you when you consider that Christ understands your need for companionship in grief—and where might He be gently inviting you not to walk alone?
3. Ecclesiastes tells us that “two are better than one.” In this season, what fears or beliefs have kept you from reaching for friendship, and how might God be inviting you to take one small step toward shared sorrow rather than silent suffering?
Part two of this important subject will be posted soon

Comments
Post a Comment