What should I say to someone who is grieving?

Grief makes almost everybody around it feel inadequate. We walk into the hospital room, funeral home, kitchen, or church foyer and suddenly every sentence feels too small. We know we cannot fix what happened, so we start reaching for something profound.

You may not need profound.

You may simply need to be present.

That verse is wonderfully uncomplicated. It does not say, “Explain to them why they should not be weeping.” It says to weep with them.

Start with one honest sentence.

If you do not know what to say, say that. “I do not know what to say. I am just so sorry.” That is better than reaching for a theological explanation you cannot possibly know.

Use the person’s name.

People are sometimes afraid that mentioning the person who died will “remind” the family of their grief. In most cases, they have not forgotten. The name is already in the room.

If you knew the person, say the name. “I was thinking about David today.” “I still remember the way Susan laughed.” “One thing I always appreciated about your dad was…” A memory can be a gift because it tells the grieving person that someone they love is still remembered by someone else.

Ask questions that open a door instead of demanding an answer.

“How are you?” can be difficult because the truthful answer may be enormous. Try something gentler and more specific: “How is today?” “Do you want to talk about her?” “What has been the hardest part this week?” “Would you rather talk or just sit for a while?”

Then do not rush to fill the silence.

Offer help that does not require them to organize you.

“Let me know if you need anything” is kind, but grief makes planning difficult. The grieving person may not know what they need, may not have the energy to ask, or may feel uncomfortable inconveniencing you.

Try something concrete.

If you share Scripture, let it comfort instead of correct.

The Bible is not too small for grief. It is full of graves, tears, questions, lament, and promises. But Scripture can be used like a balm or like a broom. Do not use a verse to sweep tears out of the room.

Psalm 34:18 is often a better place to begin than an explanation:

That verse does not demand that the hurting person feel better. It tells them something about where God is in the brokenness.

What if they cry?

Let them cry. Tears are not a conversation failure. You did not necessarily “make it worse.” Sometimes being safe enough to cry with another person is part of being cared for.

You do not need to interrupt the tears with a new subject. Hand them a tissue. Sit there. If appropriate, pray a short prayer. Let sorrow be sorrow.

What if I accidentally say the wrong thing?

Then apologize simply. “I am sorry. That did not come out the way I meant it. I care about you.” You do not have to defend your intentions. Love can survive an imperfect sentence.

The greater danger is often disappearing because you are so afraid of saying something wrong that you say nothing at all.

Keep showing up after the funeral.

The first week can be full of people, food, messages, arrangements, and decisions. Later comes quiet. That is often when the absence feels especially real.

Remember the birthday. Remember the date of the death. Send the text before the first holiday. Invite them again even if they declined the last invitation. Do not assume they are “over it” because they look composed.

A simple script when you are walking into the room

You do not need to carry their grief for them. You cannot. But you can help make sure they do not carry it alone.