pat loughery

In the past week we’ve had great comfort given by our family and friends and neighbors and strangers.

I thought it might be helpful to give a few pointers to keep in mind when comforting someone who is grieving and mourning.

Things I appreciate hearing:
– I’m praying for you
– I don’t know what to say
– I’m so sorry
– We had a miscarriage too. I understand part of how you feel.
– I’m so sad for you

Things I hope not to hear
– It’s God’s will
– They must not have been the right ones for you
– It’s a good thing it happened so early in the pregnancy
– You can try again
– You know, “all things work together for good…”

Thankfully, I haven’t heard any in the last category. Apparently Shannon has. Here’s the thing: I don’t think there’s a neat, packaged, 3-sentence answer to “why?”. When I ask “why”, I don’t expect an answer. I trust God even though it hurts and I don’t understand. I’m OK with not knowing it all.

I don’t want to hear somebody try to justify God’s rationale to me in an attempt to comfort. I’m perfectly happy knowing that God’s ways are far better than mine, and that one day, hopefully long in the future, I’ll get to ask him for myself.

That doesn’t mean it hurts any less. I’m just happy to see that I’m feeling pain, sorrow, hurt but not anger, bitterness, resentment.

C. S. Lewis puts it this way, as he’s struggling with the goodness of a God who can allow pain to happen. Is a dentist good?