There is a soft side of grief.
The side that God graces us with after a period of living on the mourning bench.
The side where it finally sinks in—we’re not losing our minds.
The side that whispers color back into our cold gray world.
Where tears still flow, but with less frequency and pain.
And memories evoke more affection than sadness.
The side where joy and sorrow dance in harmony.
The soft side of grief.
The side that carves us into gentler, often kinder creatures.
And allows us to wake each morning with a clear definition and purpose.
Grieving Friend, I’m praying that you’ll soon know the soft side of grief.
Lord,
Grief is excruciating.
My friends new to this unwanted journey are drowning in sorrow.
They feel like they’re thinking through Jello and walking through quicksand.
They believe they will never be able to bear the weight of grief.
Abba, they feel like they’ve been left to suffer.
And truth be told—they want to die.
Because the grief of missing someone so badly has rendered them soul-aching, bone-crushing tired.
And they’re convinced they are now useless and hopeless.
I get that, Lord.
I’ve been there.
Thank you.
Thank you for being closer than our skin.
Thank you for not deserting us in the wilderness
Thank you for entering every messy moment of our grief with us.
Thank you that one day, my grieving friends will know the softer side of grief.
Please let each person put his or her confidence in You.
Please strengthen shaky marriages and build strong families.
And carve each person into a gentler, kinder creature.
Comfort and use my grieving friends and be glorified in their grief.
Amen.