The Lost Art of Mourning with Others

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” Romans 12:15

Life certainly has its ups and downs and no one is immune to the valleys that we all, at some point, experience. All of our darkest moments are different, but the pain, confusion and sadness we feel are the same. Some of my darkest moments have been in the process of starting a family. Chris and I walked through a 2-year valley of infertility and unanswered questions which included the pain of coming to terms with a childless future and the guilt of not being able to give my husband children knowing just how great of a father he would be. In 2007, I wrote in my journal, “Grieving is a beautiful and healing thing. But one cannot even begin to grieve a childless future.” Granted, we both were looking forward to adopting, and even now we are still preparing to, but this valley was personal, it was deep, and we had to walk through it. The joy of adoption was separate from the grieving of not being able to bear children.

The next valley was the darkest of both mine and Chris’ lives. On July 17, 2008 I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to my water breaking. We were off and excited to have this baby that we had waited so long for. To my surprise, the whole labor process was a lot less scary than I had thought it was going to be. Don’t get me wrong, it was the hardest work I have ever done, but it wasn’t scary. I pushed for 2 hours and 3 pushes away from having our little one, all of a sudden I screamed out “My heart!” My heart shot up to 220 beats a minute within 2 seconds and climbed higher with every attempted push. I never imagined when I walked into the hospital that my life would be threatened during childbirth. An hour dragged by and the entire room full of doctors and heart surgeons still could not decide what should be done. Then the dreaded question was asked to Chris, “Who do you want us to ‘focus’ on? We can let her wait for a while longer and not push, but that puts the baby at risk, or we can have her push and we can use the defibrillator if her heart fails.”

…And that valley continued when we got home. Now both safe at home and free from EKG wires, I had to deal with postpartum depression that often happens after a traumatic birthing experience. With a new baby at home, I was unable to process what had happened to me, unable to look for answers, and to heal physically. These have been some of my darkest moments. And since then, I can’t help but notice that there are three types of damaging responses that have become popular for these valleys that are so deep and personal to us.

The first popular response is using GENERIC CLICHES like, “Don’t worry, God is in control,” and “God is good! Everything will work out.” How do you even respond to that when you are walking alone in the valley? They feel so hollow. Maybe these statements have been made to you before and left you feeling misunderstood or lonely or even questioning if you are spiritually okay since you don’t feel like everything is going to work out. Personally, these responses just make me want to scream and rip my arm off just so I have something to throw at them! I know that God is in control! I know that He is good! I know what He has promised me! Do you think I don’t know this?! It doesn’t negate the fact that valleys are real, the journey is real, and the pain is real. I am not necessarily saying our intentions are bad when we say these responses. I think most of us can agree we often don’t know what to say in those moments. What I fear is that these generic clichés are coming from an insecure heart. We don’t know what to say, so instead we try to come up with a spiritual response that seems like the right thing, or righteous thing, to say. We are trying to sound spiritual when it is not needed. Why do we fear the silence of not saying anything? Why don’t we just be REAL and REALLY be in the moment with them? Romans 12:15 is not calling us to spiritually rescue a person; it is calling us to feel with the person.

The second popular response that I’ve been noticing is that we are NAMING and CLAIMING things that aren’t actually promised to us like, “I trust they will be healed.” The truth is we are not in control and we can’t declare outcomes by naming and claiming what we want to see happen. True faith has been explained as “believing that God is who He says He is and that He will do what He has promised to do.” True faith is dependent on knowing who God is and what He has promised. What that means is true faith is dependent on knowing God’s Word. Have you ever read the full story of God? Not just the Gospels and Psalms, but also Isaiah, Micah, Amos, Obadiah, Revelation, and everything in between? No where does God promise in the Bible that everything always turns out exactly how we want it to. He never promises to keep us from the storm. What He does promise is that He will walk with us through the storm. We are not in control, and naming and claiming promises not found in Scripture can be dangerously misleading to the listener.

The third and final popular response that I’ve been noticing is that we sometimes offer up a long, UNWARRANTED SPIRITUAL DISSERTATION without even really knowing the situation or even the person…just like Job’s friends did in the Old Testament. Sometimes we go off on a long tangent, when in fact that person doesn’t really care to hear your thoughts or advice. Realizing I am not as great as I think I am, I like to honestly evaluate two questions before I speak: 1) “Do they want to know what I think?” and 2) “What is my relationship with them- honestly?” It is humbling for me to think about those answers before I start airing what I feel I desperately need to say. Even in these seemingly dire situations, we are to be “quick to listen, slow to speak (James 1:19).”

The reason why I write about these personal experiences is because I fear that we have lost the art of mourning with those who mourn that is asked of us in Romans 12:15. Our mourning with each other has turned into mere pep talks...or even less personal generic cliché Facebook posts. It is nothing like the nurturing and healing mourning we see in Judges 11 where Jephthah’s daughter learns she will never marry.

36 "My father," she replied, "you have given your word to the LORD. Do to me just as you promised, now that the LORD has avenged you of your enemies, the Ammonites. 37 But grant me this one request," she said. "Give me two months to roam the hills and weep with my friends, because I will never marry."

38 "You may go," he said. And he let her go for two months. She and the girls went into the hills and wept because she would never marry.

In these days and in this culture, we mourn alone. Rather than standing side by side in the valley, we stay at a safe distance. There is no companionship. There is no getting away together. There is no weeping and feeling with the other person. And as many of my friends are currently facing valleys of their own, I am seeing serious consequences of not truly mourning with each other that I think we need to take notice of in our own lives:

- We fail to be REAL with each other. Generic clichés mark the period of the end of any conversation. If your response to my valley is “Don’t worry, God is in control” then you have given the concluding statement. Period. The conversation is over. The wall is immediately built. The conversation cannot go to the next level about my real emotions of fear, confusion, sadness, etc. Generic clichés do not invite the hurting to share and be vulnerable. Rather, they place a fear of responding at all because we do not want to sound faithless just because we are wrestling with hurt and confusion.
- We lack authentic relationships. Failing to be real with each other leads to a lack of authentic relationships. Our response to those in mourning remains so minimal that we always stay at a safe distance. And sadly, those who give unwarranted spiritual dissertations are in denial about where their relationships actually stand already.
- We fail to embrace true faith. We might like saying all the things that sound greatly needed and spiritual and righteous-y in the moment. But do we know who God really is? Not our own version of God, but the God who has revealed Himself in Scripture? And do we know what He has actually promised us? Not just what we feel we are entitled to, but what He has actually declared in Scripture as His promises?

I don’t know, maybe everyone is right and I think too much. Maybe I’ve lost my marbles. But this is just me. What do you think?

SCRIPTURE ON MOURNING

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

“There is a time for everything…a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance...a time to be silent and a time to speak…” Ecclesiastes 3

“A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.” Proverbs 25:11

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matt 5:4

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28

“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:20