One hot summer morning I received a text from an acquaintance, asking to stop by. My first baby had slipped from my womb the day before and the grief was like bearing up under an anvil. I walked slowly to the door through residual contractions to greet her. She arrived bearing a plant and a heart that was ready to listen.

We sat on my couch as I shared my story of loss. Everything in my heart poured out like a waterfall—my questions, fears, and sorrows. She listened intently, tears lining her lashes like tiny soldiers coming to my aid, coming to fight this war alongside me. When my words fell silent, she opened her own mouth.

She shared with me her story of losing a baby to stillbirth and one to miscarriage. The tears welled up as if her grief was reawakened. Her words were not filled with rebukes over my wrestlings with truth. She didn’t feel the need to remind me to “rejoice always” or to “just trust God.” She wept with the weeping, prayed with a sister who needed prayer, saw a friend who needed to be seen, and listened to a woman who needed to be heard. This woman came into my house as someone I barely knew, but she left as a close companion. Shared grief had braided our lives together. She taught me how to be Spirit-led when meeting with the grieving.

Self-Centered Ministry to the Grieving

It is deeply human to hate to see others suffer. Pain points us to the truth that this world is not as it should be. Parents weren’t meant to watch their tiny newborn struggle to survive in the NICU. Small children weren’t supposed to attend their father’s funeral. I shouldn’t have had to watch my Papaw’s body succumb to Leukemia as I cried with my head on his chest. Our dismay over these tragedies shifts our eyes to the day when Jesus will crush death and usher in the fullness of the kingdom of heaven.

Our hatred for death and other grief-inducing circumstances makes sense. But, as always, sin infiltrates even our motivations for ministering to the hurting. If we’re honest with ourselves, we might notice we’re more uncomfortable with the grief of others than the reality of the loss they’re facing. Grief makes life tricky. It’s far from easy to navigate and lacks tidy answers.

It’s hard work to bear the burdens of others. Watching people we love suffer is deeply painful. What if we say the wrong thing or come up short on wisdom? Maybe deep down we’re worried that if we get too close to the situation the sorrow will grip our heart too. We might even be uncomfortable with their tears, so when they begin to fall we rush to find a way to make it stop: “God is sanctifying you!” or “You just need to trust God.” Maybe we quote Romans 8:28 in hopes that truth will wipe the pain away like a magic eraser.

But Bible verses aren’t bandaids. And they don’t immediately stitch up the wounds of the grieving. Healing takes time and can only be accomplished by the Almighty God. He uses us as his hands and feet, but it is still he who carries out the work. Self-centered ministry forgets this.

Self-Sufficient Ministry to the Grieving

A big reason Christians feel ill-equipped (myself included) to help our grieving brothers and sisters is that we often rely on our own wisdom and strength to do so. Which, of course, falls incredibly short. Rather than remembering that there is a spiritual battle taking place, we show up without our armor (Eph. 6:10–18). We forget to pray ahead of time or ask for the Spirit’s help. We assume that our own wisdom is sufficient.

Most of us want to help those who are suffering in our lives, we just aren’t sure how. But do we ask God to show us? Or do we pass by, hoping someone else will take up arms in the battle instead? When we come up short for words, do we offer up a common Christian platitude or worldly positivity, or do we ask the Spirit to speak through us?

We will never minister perfectly, but when our ministry comes from a place of self-sufficiency, the mistakes will be glaring. We need to learn the art of relying on the Spirit when meeting with the grieving.

Spirit-Led Ministry to the Grieving

The good news is, there is a better way to interact with people who are hurting. We can seek to be in tune with the Holy Spirit every step of the way. Our pursuit of the heart of the grieving can (and should) be marked by patience and prayer.

No one knows a sufferer more than the Spirit who knows exactly what a person needs at any given moment. Why would we not offer ourselves to him, praying, “Spirit, give me wisdom and words as I meet with my friend. Prompt me to know when to pray, listen, speak truth, or allow silence.” We must lay aside our self-sufficient shoes and ask the Spirit to lead us in when to speak and when to remain quiet, when to offer up truth and when to simply listen. If we are prayerful, we can trust he will give us guidance. He will provide the words he wants us to speak and the good works he wants us to walk in. Because weeping with and providing for the grieving is a good work we have all been called to (Rom. 12:25; Gal. 6:2), we can trust that God will provide the wisdom we need for each moment of burden-bearing work.

Proverbs 15 reminds us, “To make an apt answer is a joy to a man, and a word in season, how good it is!” (Prov. 15:23). We find a similar statement in Proverbs 25:11: “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.” We can only “make apt answers” or speak words that are “fitly spoken” if we are relying on God to provide the words. We need him.

So we bring along his Word, not to shove Bible verses down the throat of a friend, but to have on hand in case he leads us to a particular passage. We show up ready to listen and we pray the whole time for the Spirit’s help to love our friend well by sharing truth when he prompts and simply listening when he quiets us. We ask him to show us what our friend needs at that moment. Does she need prayer? A listening ear? Does she need reminders that Jesus is with her, carrying her through? We ask him to insert practical ideas into our minds of how to help. Could our friend use a meal? Would it be helpful to clean her house or watch her kids?

When the prophet Elijah was so depressed he asked God to take away his life, God came to him as the Angel of the LORD, laying his hands on him and then cooking him a meal (1 Kings 19:4–8). Another time, Jesus visited Paul in prison in his distress, ensuring Paul that he was with him (Acts 23:11). The ministry of presence is undeniably important. Sometimes what our friend needs most is someone to simply sit with them in their grief.

We must ask God to give us a heart that is willing to kneel down and weep with those who are weeping. That he’d give us an empathetic and humble heart, ready to listen, offer our presence, and even our tears. Jesus wept with his friends at the death of Lazarus (John 11:35). And he has provided his Holy Spirit as our Helper who will show us how to follow in his footsteps.