This Christmas season, it’s not about getting over grief, it’s about learning to grieve well

OPINION:

Doctor: I see you marked on this form that you’ve been feeling down or depressed. Why? 

Me: I still feel sad about losing my wife to cancer. 

Doctor: When was that?

Me: About three years ago. 

Doctor (scoffing): Well, what you need is electroshock therapy. That’ll knock that grief right out of you. 

Me: Um…?

Yes, this exchange actually happened, during an annual wellness exam. Needless to say, I declined brain damage as a treatment for bereavement, but I’ve never forgotten that this is how our society views grief — as a mental illness to be eradicated and an impediment to a healthy life.

The problem is, that perspective is patently untrue.

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Lingering grief over significant loss is normal, natural, and (dare I say it?) can actually be good for you. What’s important is not forcing ourselves to “get over grief,” but instead learning to grieve well.

So this holiday season, let’s do that instead.

What Grieving Well Is Not…

It’s possible to grieve in ways that are selfish, unhealthy, and dishonest to the real emotion we are feeling.

For instance, using grief as an excuse to harm yourself or others is not a legitimate grief response. Making your sorrow a justification for revenge, personal guilt, or ongoing bitterness, is, again, a vandalization of what can be an honest, healing emotion.

Fact is, grief is actually an expression of love; we grieve deeply because we have loved deeply. Love is strong and death is inevitable. So if you love anyone or anything, and you happen to be on a planet where everyone dies, well, you’d better be ready to grieve well instead of grieving with harm.

So what is grieving well?

Grieving Without Shame

First, grieving well means grieving honestly, authentically, without embarrassment or shame—regardless of how uncomfortable that makes others feel.

This can be difficult, because people will lecture you about their discomfort when they see you grieving. They’ll think they’re helping but, as we all know, people say stupid things when they don’t know what to say. Feel free to ignore them.

I loved my wife completely, intimately, daily, for 30 wonderful years. Why should I allow someone else’s disapproval to shame me for missing her only three years after her death? Or seven years? Or whenever? I won’t — and you don’t have to either.

Grieving Without Shortcuts

Second, grieving well means refusing to shortcut the grieving process.

Yes, the intensity of grief response will moderate over time, but you and I? Let’s face it, we’ll never “get over” losing our loved one. And we don’t have to.

I compare it to a soldier who comes back wounded from war, walking with a limp. We’d never tell that soldier, “Hey, war’s over! Get over it. Stop limping already!”

Similarly, in a very real sense, your soul has been wounded by the loss of a loved one — and it will leave a scar there. So we must learn to accept who we are now, to be comfortable being people who figuratively “walk with a limp” in the soul — for as long as it takes, even if it takes a lifetime.

Grieving With Heaven

Third, grieving well means not grieving alone.

When my Amy died, I was wrecked — so I took all my broken pieces directly to Jesus in prayer, and I kept doing that over and over. I didn’t need Him to take my pain away; I needed Him to be near me, within my pain — and He was. He still is.

I remember once, during a grief counseling session with a psychiatrist, my counselor asked me about God.

“It’s normal to be angry in times like this,” she said, “and that can affect your faith.”

So I thought about it, but honestly, it hadn’t occurred to me to be angry at God over my wife’s death. After all, everyone dies. Our marriage vows even included the phrase, “’Til death do us part,” so we knew at the beginning that one of us would go before the other. If the inevitable happens, why lash out at God for that?

But more importantly: In the midst of the despair of losing Amy, Christ alone was my hope and help; His Spirit refused to leave me. Why would I push away the only One who is helping me while I suffer? That’d be like punching the lifeguard who’s swum out to save me from drowning.

In the end, I needed Jesus more than I needed to be angry at Him. I suspect that the same is true for you.

Grieving With Joy

Finally, grieving well means learning to accept the strange mixture of emotions that’s common to your life now. Do not accept the lie that joy and sorrow are mutually exclusive; the truth is that both can exist at the same time, in the same person, over and over again.

Jesus is our example of this. On the night before His crucifixion, He spoke to His disciples and said, “I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy,” (John 15:11). Less than an hour later He told them, “My soul is crushed with grief…” (Matthew 26:38).

Joy and sorrow, present at the same time in our Christ means those emotions can also be mutually-present within us as well.

So this holiday season, remember:

You can sorrow over your loss … and still laugh with the children in your life.

You can miss your loved one … and still spend meaningful time with friends.

You can feel sad, yet still go to work, still serve in your community, still watch football and movies, still live your life as each day comes your way.

This is the precious gift that you and I now have: the ability to feel sorrow and joy mixed together like wine. We might as well make the most of it.

There’s more to be said, of course, but that’ll have to wait for another day. For now — as you hear Christmas carols ringing through your local grocery store, as you stare at a tree with too few presents under it, when you notice the empty seat at the dinner table — well, relax. It’s OK to feel sorrow over your great loss at the holidays; just promise yourself that, this year at least, you’re going to grieve well.

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Mike Nappa is a practical theologian known for writing “coffee-shop theology” and Christian Living books. He’s a bestselling and award-winning author with millions of copies of his works sold worldwide. An Arab-American, Mike is proud to be a person of color (BIPOC) active in publishing. Google Mikey to learn more, or visit MikeNappa.com. Find Mike’s bestselling book, Reflections for the Grieving Soul wherever books are sold.