A Blessing by Kate Bowler

I first came to hear of Kate Bowler from my daughter, who read her book, “Everything Happens for a Reason.”  I read it and immediately came to cherish her words.  

Kate Bowler is a New York Times best-selling author, podcast host, and associate professor of the history of Christianity in North America at Duke University. After being unexpectedly diagnosed with Stage IV cancer at age 35, she wrote the New York Times best-selling memoir, Everything Happens for a Reason (and Other Lies I’ve Loved), which tells the story of her struggle to understand the personal and intellectual dimensions of the American belief that all tragedies are tests of character. Her TED talk on the subject has received over 9 million views to date, and on her popular podcast, Everything Happens, she talks with people about what they have learned in dark times and why it is so difficult to speak frankly about suffering.

A BLESSING FOR WHEN YOU MIGHT NOT KNOW HOW TO PRAY (OR WANT TO)

Blessed are you in this terrible, wonderful now.

Fumbling around for the right words.

You need so much and it seems impossible to say at all.

Blessed are you for whom prayer feels hopeless, disappointing, futile.

Blessed are you in your radical honesty, in the ways you speak of your grief.

The long, sleepless nights in a still-empty bed.

Or the physical pain you feel, the joints that don’t work like they used to, the brain fog or chronic migraines, who speak of your loneliness, the empty home or nest or womb.

Blessed are you who have the audacity to ask for the miracles you need, the healing or a new friend or a redeemed family.

Blessed are you as you learn to trust, trust a God who hears, who listens, who hasn’t left your side, who prays on your behalf, interpreting those deep groans you can’t quite put into syllables or sounds.

Blessed are you, as you settle into acceptance.

And blessed are we who live here in the someday, but not now.

"Grateful Yet Grieving"

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download

Comfort and Condolences

The dictionary defines condolence as 
con·do·lence a plural noun: condolences
an expression of sympathy, especially on the occasion of a death.
"We offer our sincere condolences to his widow.”

After the death of my husband, I received numerous sympathy cards. I’ve kept them as a means of remembering the words of comfort and condolence that people took time to write and send. Each card held meaning and gave me a symbol that people care. Words are full of power.
Proverbs 25:11 (CSB) “A word spoken at the right time is like gold apples in silver settings.”

What are some helpful ways to demonstrate sympathy and offer words of comfort? How do we comfort those grieving? Here are some thoughts on how to comfort well:

Acknowledge the loss in some way. Send a note, show up, say, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Bringing a meal or offering to cut the grass are meaningful gestures of care and comfort.  

Listen well without asking too many questions. When someone asked me, “How are you?” I could only respond with, “I’m upright, breathing, and hanging on to Jesus.” There are so few words to describe the grief. One of the best things someone said to me in the first few months after my husband died was, “It’s good to see you.” Those words were balm to my soul. I didn’t want to be invisible in my pain.  

Follow up with a call, text, or note six months down the road to check in. The first few months people are available. Often it’s the six-month mark that the grief hits the hardest and people have moved on with their lives.  

One of the most tender gestures I’ve received is when someone has texted or sent a note to remember the day my husband died. After five years, I still am touched when someone reaches out to acknowledge the day my life changed.  

We’re all busy and moving at a fast pace. Taking time to let people know you care is a key to helping those who grieve move through the process. Expressing comfort and condolences to those who are grieving will always be a gift.

"Grateful Yet Grieving"

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download