Speaking words of comfort

From the time of Job until now, the ways and words that truly comfort have not changed. Here are four things worth considering when trying to offer words of comfort to the grieving: 

1. Your silent presence is comforting enough.

After listening to his friends who were trying to make sense of the misfortunes that happened to him, Job repeatedly said, “Keep silent and let me speak” (Job 13:13, 21:2–3, NIV). Many times, we don’t need to speak to comfort a grieving friend. Just listen, be present, and be there for your friend. At my parents’ wakes, there were dear friends who came whose presence brought much assurance and comfort to me. They did not say much. They sat quietly in the pews and that was enough to tell me that I am not alone. 

One of the most comforting acts that I received during that time was a hug from a little boy. No words were said but that gentle touch reminded me that God’s embrace sometimes comes from the short, chubby arms of a child. Your silent presence is enough to comfort someone who is grieving. 

2. Do away with empty promises and clichés. I’ve heard these words repeated many times over by the people who joined us at our parents’ wakes—“He is now in a much better place,” “This is not a goodbye, just a good night,” “At least, she is no longer in pain.” While these words sound good, they can be a barrage of noise to the ears of those who are suffering. They may not say it out loud but in the minds of the grieving, they might be echoing the words of Job when he told his friends, “How can your empty clichés comfort me?” (Job 21:34, NLT). 

Instead of using worn-out words of sympathy, pause, pray, and ask the Lord to give you the words that would minister to the person you’d like to comfort. My father died towards the end of September, the month when Christmas carols start playing in the Philippines. The thought of spending our first Christmas without our parents was too much to bear. We jokingly told those who were at my father’s wake that we’d be grateful if anyone would “adopt” us to their Christmas gathering that year. After the interment, a friend sent me a message saying that we are now officially adopted into their family. Every year since my parents’ passing, this friend’s clan has opened their home to welcome us to their annual family Christmas gathering. Oftentimes, clichés at funerals go in one ear and out the other but promises fulfilled and well-thought out sympathies stay in the hearts of the grieving like a soothing balm. 

3. Keep your tact intact. The tactless words of Job’s friends did more harm than good as we read through his retort in Job 19:2–3, NLT, “How long will you torture me? How long will you try to crush me with your words? You have already insulted me ten times.” There are words that seem benign and innocent to some but hurtful to those who have been orphaned or bereaved. 

At my father’s wake, there were well-meaning people who said, “Why did you let your father undergo the surgery? Maybe he’d still be with us if not for the operation.” When I heard those words, I wanted to lash out and say, “Are you here to comfort or blame us?” Instead, I silently counted from 1 to 10 before I said, “If it is our father’s appointed time to die, the Lord will take him while recovering from a surgery or by some other means.” 

Another visitor asked my sibling how old our mom was. After learning that she was four years short of 80, the visitor said, “Ah puwede na. (Ah, she’s old enough).” My sibling wanted to tell that guest, “Ikaw puwede ka na rin!” (You’re also old enough to pass on!)” but she just kept her composure and politely excused herself. It is painful to lose a loved one regardless of age. 

If asking someone’s age is deemed impolite, so does asking the age of the deceased especially from their immediate family members. Tact is a gift that every comforter should bring when trying to minister to someone who is grieving. 

4. Leave their questions unanswered. All throughout the book of Job, he had many questions, “Why wasn’t I born dead? Why didn’t I die as I came from the womb?” (Job 3:11, NLT), “Why is life given to those with no future, those God has surrounded with difficulties?” (Job 3:23). Job’s friends tried to answer him but instead of comfort, their attempt to provide clarity to Job’s queries made him feel rushed, judged, and abandoned. 

People who are grieving are trying to make sense of what is happening to them. One of the best ways to comfort them is by listening and waiting with them as they navigate the storms of emotions that are raging in their minds and hearts. Many of the questions won’t have answers. But the freedom to express those thoughts brings healing to those who grieve. 

Dutch theologian Henri Nouwen said that, “A wounded healer is someone who can listen to a person in pain without having to speak about his or her own wounds.” 

There is a right time to share your own pains and experiences of grief to those who are dealing with their own wounds. That moment often comes when we have spent enough time listening to their cries, questions, and expressions of raw emotions. 

Speaking words of comfort to someone who is grieving can be a daunting task especially if you have not experienced the season of grief yourself. But let it not stop you from accompanying someone who is on this painful and difficult journey. 

Your presence, your silence, your gentle acts of kindness, your words fitly spoken can all be used by the God of all comfort to bring healing to the broken and bereaved. 

This is an excerpt by Maloi Malibiran Salumbides entitled Speaking Words of Comfort in a Season of Grief, from the book This Season of Grief.

This book is available at OMF Lit Bookshops and our online stores - shop.omflit.com, Shopee, and Lazada for P275.

In this season of grief, many have suffered different kinds of loss.

We’ve suffered the loss of the physical—loved ones, our health, income, possessions. We’ve suffered the loss of the intangibles— freedom, memories, justice, peace. We’ve also suffered the loss of the ambiguous; we know we have lost them even though we could not name them. We feel all these losses and cry out in a collective, pandemic grief.

This book comes alongside those grieving many kinds of loss — not as an authority hurriedly dismissing a grief but rather, as a gentle friend who says, “I understand…”

Through stories, poetry, prayers, and practical help, this book brings comfort and hope to those languishing in this season of grief.

With writings by:

Ang Tala
Albit Rodriguez
Annabel Manzanilla-Manalo
Carmelo “Mel” Caparros II
Dan Andrew S. Cura
Feliz Lucas
Francis Kristoffer L. Pasion
Ida Torres
J.M.
j. p. berame
Joanna Nicolas-Na
Joey L. Castillo, Jr.
Jophen Baui
Joyce Tongson-Manalang
Karen Huang
Larry Pabiona
Lourdes Batac
Maloi Malibiran-Salumbides
Maria Susan Gonzalez-Lim
Maria Teresa Banzagales-Abiva
Melba Padilla Maggay
Melvin Jansen Ang
Michellan Sarile-Alagao
nathania aritao
Nicodemo S. Estrada
Philip Manuelson D. Arandia
Rico Villanueva
Timothy Ervin T. Ngo
Yna S. Reyes

Foreword by: Cathy Babao