Since my son died 15 years ago, I have read lots of books on grief. Probably 50. Of course, everyone knows there is plenty of grief for everyone in the world, and then some. Yes, joy and sorrow are mingled in this life.
I never feel like it’s my job to tell anyone how to grieve. Very often I have a hard enough time figuring out how I feel—about a sister who is having health issues, about a pastor friend who just lost his job, about what’s happening in Gaza, about a church spit this summer. Do you experience some kind of grief everyday like I do? Of course you do.
And those griefs I mention are from just today! You get the point. And though I am part of a community of faith I like and trust, I know that there is part of grief that is mine alone, and part of your grief that is yours alone. In a conversation I once had with a friend I expressed deeply painful emotions. He didn’t say anything but looked at my with a forlorn expression. Feelings are feelings. We all have them as we each work out our own salvation with fear and Trembling. (Philippians 2:12) It just does no good to tell someone how to feel. When we are grieving we need no “shoulds” or “oughts.”
About the best responses any of us can ever give to someone grieving are these three: “I love you.” “I am so sorry.” “I so wish it were different for you.” What do we say after that? Nothing. We just remain silent.
Just as the book of Ecclesiastes says of the writing of books there is no end, of the writing of books on grief there also is no end. That’s as it should be.
Not long ago a pastor asked me about my go-to books on grief. I hadn’t thought about it for a while. Truth is, it depends on the situation. As I thought about it, here are five books on grief that I have returned to over and over.
A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. This is a meditation I have read at least 20 times. It is Lewis’ thoughts on the death of his wife Joy Davidman. I love the title. It’s not A Grief Understood or A Grief Dissected or even A Grief Explained. In simplest words, the best I’ve ever understood grief is merely to observe it. Lewis’ meditation is raw, palpable, sad, powerful. Who of us, when we are grieving anything, wants someone to say, “May I say something about the grief you may be feeling?”
“Ah, no!”
A Grace Disguised—How The Soul Grows Through Loss by Jerry Sittser. Here’s another book I’ve probably read a dozen times. Sittser tells the story of how he lost his mother, his wife and one of his daughters in a tragic accident involving a drunk driver. He tells how, over the years, he made his peace with his sad story and went on to remarry and live a fulfilling life. A powerful book, to say the least. A beautiful meditation on how we can experience joy in life even after tragedy.
Lament for a Son by Nicholas Wolterstorff. This Yale Divinity School philosopher reflects on the sudden death of his 25-year-old son in a mountain-climbing accident. His reflection centers on the sting of losing a child never leaves you. A gripping read.
Unspeakable—Facing Up to Evil in an Age of Genocide and Terror by Os Guinness. Here Guinness calls us to live a carefully examined life. He argues for us to do our best to come to terms with evil so we can fight against it. No sugar-coating the world we live in here. It’s why we pray “… lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”
Wounded in Spirit—Advent Art and Meditations by David Bannon. This is both the most inspiring and the most sobering book I have ever read during Christmas holiday. Bannon draws on the works and lives of famous artists and poets, almost all of whom lost children, many of them during the Christmas season. I love Advent books but never had read anything like this. Bannon writes about how so much of Christian art centers on grief, arguing that one of the central themes of Advent is longing for Jesus to return.
This same pastor went on to ask me my go-to Bible verses about grief. I have lots of them, but here are two verses from the New Testament and two psalms that in 15 years never have stopped rolling around in my mind.
Matthew 5:4
Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted. (Jesus)
Romans 12:15
Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. (Paul)
Psalm 77[a]
For the director of music. For Jeduthun. Of Asaph. A psalm.
1 I cried out to God for help;
I cried out to God to hear me.
2 When I was in distress, I sought the Lord;
at night I stretched out untiring hands,
and I would not be comforted.
3 I remembered you, God, and I groaned;
I meditated, and my spirit grew faint.[b]
4 You kept my eyes from closing;
I was too troubled to speak.
5 I thought about the former days,
the years of long ago;
6 I remembered my songs in the night.
My heart meditated and my spirit asked:
7 “Will the Lord reject forever?
Will he never show his favor again?
8 Has his unfailing love vanished forever?
Has his promise failed for all time?
9 Has God forgotten to be merciful?
Has he in anger withheld his compassion?”
10 Then I thought, “To this I will appeal:
the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand.
11 I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
12 I will consider all your works
and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
13 Your ways, God, are holy.
What god is as great as our God?
14 You are the God who performs miracles;
you display your power among the peoples.
15 With your mighty arm you redeemed your people,
the descendants of Jacob and Joseph.
16 The waters saw you, God,
the waters saw you and writhed;
the very depths were convulsed.
17 The clouds poured down water,
the heavens resounded with thunder;
your arrows flashed back and forth.
18 Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind,
your lightning lit up the world;
the earth trembled and quaked.
19 Your path led through the sea,
your way through the mighty waters,
though your footprints were not seen.
20 You led your people like a flock
by the hand of Moses and Aaron.
Psalm 88
1 Lord, you are the God who saves me;
day and night I cry out to you.
2 May my prayer come before you;
turn your ear to my cry.
3 I am overwhelmed with troubles
and my life draws near to death.
4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am like one without strength.
5 I am set apart with the dead,
like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more,
who are cut off from your care.
6 You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.
7 Your wrath lies heavily on me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.[d]
8 You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape;
9 my eyes are dim with grief.
I call to you, Lord, every day;
I spread out my hands to you.
10 Do you show your wonders to the dead?
Do their spirits rise up and praise you?
11 Is your love declared in the grave,
your faithfulness in Destruction[e]?
12 Are your wonders known in the place of darkness,
or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?
13 But I cry to you for help, Lord;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
14 Why, Lord, do you reject me
and hide your face from me?
15 From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;
I have borne your terrors and am in despair.
16 Your wrath has swept over me;
your terrors have destroyed me.
17 All day long they surround me like a flood;
they have completely engulfed me.
18 You have taken from me friend and neighbor—
darkness is my closest friend.
Thanks, Don. You are a helpful guide for all walking through grief and trauma. Just today I listened to an interview with David Peters, author of "Post-Traumatic Jesus" - I want to check that one out, too.