Comforting those who mourn

Death. No one is comfortable about it, no one is practiced in handling it. But is a certainty of life.

I flew to Capiz last Friday for the funeral of Carlo's mom. For a week before that, I struggled with words as I kept in touch with the Kit and Carlo. There's simply nothing to say. As I stayed up late at night reading text messages from them the first few nights after their mother passed away, I took almost an hour to reply.

Sunday afternoon, people told me I should go. I dreaded the idea of being there but being silent. What use would I be to the bereaved in that way? I would only be a burden to them as I stayed with them. But God cleared the path for me, I obeyed and flew there.

I spent my entire afternoon there tongue-tied. And we wouldn't talk. But by evening, I realized that my words weren't going to help anyway. So I listened. I sat there silent. And to my surprise, only then did the stories came forth... So did the grief... We just sat there most of the time after that in silence and somehow that was all that was needed.

There was much temptation to fill the silence, to tell them to let it out, to tell them this and that. But I knew words would fall flat. It was a time to stand by them, share their loss, be still and know God there.