A Balm for the grieving soul

Here’s a letter I once wrote to friends, acquaintances, and people I reached out to when they lost a loved one. I’ve edited it to remove personal details and rewritten it so it can bless anyone who reads it.

Every line in this letter has blessed me deeply, and I believe it will bless you too. If you know someone who is grieving and you’re unsure how to reach out or what to say, this is for you as well.

Feel free to share it with them 🤍

Hi there 🫂

Hi there, I am Emmanuella Ubokabasi.

I lost my Dad on Tuesday, the 25th of June, 2024. I have been meaning and asking God what to tell you since receiving the news of the passing of your loved one. Honestly, even for someone who has lost a loved one, it doesn’t always mean I fully get it or have the right words to say.

I am also aware that following their passing would be an influx of messages and calls.

I was hoping and trying not to add to any overwhelming influx.

I hope you get the time to read this message.

Here I go,

Losing your loved one is a phase of life you’ve never experienced. I want you to take it easy on yourself.

Received Condolences - Things People Say

As I had mentioned earlier, you’d receive an influx of messages following their passing.

Sometimes it might be overwhelming, and sometimes it won’t.

The thing is, amongst this influx of messages are those who have been through something similar and those who have no idea of what it feels like to have lost someone or lose someone that close.

Most of these people are honestly well-meaning, and all they say is in an attempt to comfort you.

Some are able to pass their condolence message in a thoughtful, coherent, and well-crafted sentences that console you and brings comfort to your heart.

There are other cases where people are saying things, trying to make you feel better, but often what they say makes you feel a little bit worse. Have mercy on them because they do not know what to say, and they feel very awkward. They are just feeling bad for you.

Time for yourself

Losing your loved one is a phase of life you’ve never experienced. I want you to take it easy on yourself. As you grieve, this is one time in your life you need to be “selfish ” to take care of yourself. Think very carefully about what you want to do and what you don’t want to do.

Literally, your world seems to have just flipped, and it’s just your world and that of your family members. Your friends, acquaintances might be aware of what had happened to you. They can be there when you need them the most, but it’s still not their world that flipped.

You might have heard things like “You’re a man, be strong”, “You need to be there for your sisters, your family”, “Be strong”. Honestly, even without others saying it, you’d have the urge perhaps to be strong and go out of your way not to show signs of remorse or sadness, to perhaps avoid a pity party or people being concerned about you.

But hey, one thing I want you to do is to always make time for yourself. You could see it as some sort of retreat.

A time where you won’t socialize, you’re not going to talk to anyone except God or yourself.

You can let people close to you know that you’d be taking time for yourself (and that’s if you want to; you don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to).

For about the first five months of my Dad’s passing, I was in everyone’s face, I was replying to calls, being there for people and things that needed my attention, such as my family, my mum, school, and other related things. I wasn’t prepared for resuming school, and it was going to be my final year. I did not want anyone in school to know what had happened, and I knew I would have to put on a front in order not to let anyone be concerned about me, and I did. As days, weeks, and months went by, it became harder. I began to remember the month anniversary of his passing, the “this time last month”, “this time last year”, natural things you hear, smell, and see every day that remind you that this person is truly gone. This, you might be able to relate to.

I don’t cry often or easily, not because I don’t want to, sometimes the tears don’t just flow. The moment I heard the news of my Dad’s passing, I couldn’t cry until I actually saw him later in the evening that day. After that, I couldn’t shed a tear until the day of his burial. Everyone left me to cry cause they knew they had not seen me cry since everything happened. Sometimes when I can’t cry, I feel the pain in my body, it could come as headaches, sleepless nights, or my eyes hurting.

As soon as I was on my Christmas break from school, I knew I needed to take some time off for myself, time to reflect on what had happened, on my innermost fears, pain, insecurities, anger, bitterness, anything that I needed to come to terms with, within myself and with God, with respect to my Dad's passing.

During these periods where I’d retreat, I’d go for a walk, just my thoughts. During those periods, I’d write in my journal how I felt, things I had experienced over the period of his passing. I wrote to my Dad, pouring out my heart. I wrote everything I wanted to say to him that I did not get to say. I could write things I was sorry for, things that had happened, and I wish he were here to see it. I told him I was sorry for the things he had experienced in his childhood, how he lost his mum, and everything he went through. I’d tell him I wished I had asked him more about how he survived and how I was proud of him and his siblings for pushing through in such a bad and hurting family background. I told him what I was sad about. I told him what I was angry about and what I didn’t understand. This was in my writing, in my thoughts, in my sighs, in my tears, or with my words.

When I needed to cry, I’d cry, weep, and sob for as long as I needed to. It could be streaks of days. I could cry buckets of tears expressing the depth of what I could not put into words or utter, reflecting my heart to God and to the circumstances around.

I’d just sit still or lie still on the bed, listening to music, or reading a book on experiences similar to what I was going through. After retreats like that, I’d feel lighter, clearer thinking, and better. Anytime I feel that things are getting overwhelming, and it’s beyond just talking to someone, I don’t hesitate to take time for myself.

One of the things you might want to strongly do or think about is to take time for yourself especially having suffered this loss. Set apart a time for yourself, a place you’re comfortable with, all with the express purpose of just thinking, meditating, praying, and reflecting on your loss.
You can also journal your thoughts during that time to process your thoughts. Take a notebook, pen and pour your thoughts and emotions on the paper. Just dump out everything you’re thinking, feeling and processing since your loss. The idea is to be in a place you are comfortable and not to be distracted by people, places, phones, computers, and messages .

People who feel like sunshine - Support Systems

There are days when it might seem overwhelming, when you’d want someone to talk to, and sometimes you’d just want to be around them.

These are people who feel like sunshine. Sometimes you can tell them how heavy your heart is, and they will listen with patient ears without belittling your feelings or making you feel like a burden.

There are people you don’t have to tell what’s going on; just being around them makes you feel better or lighter.

Identify these people, let them be your support systems. They may be friends, family, or even acquaintances. They could include psychiatrists, psychologists, or even pastors.

Make a list of these people, so that when you are feeling down and out, you know who to call or contact without having to think about it.

The ‘Hug’ Playlist - Songs about when the Christian suffers.

There’s this playlist that feels like a hug anytime I listen to it. It comprises songs that depict and comfort the soul and heart of the suffering Christian, portraying the strength and presence of God amidst the intense pain and grief we feel.

I saw this playlist a few weeks before the passing of my dad. I wasn’t sure if I needed it when I saw it, but I just had the urge to save it. From that playlist, I made a personal one tailored to suit me and my needs, adding other songs I had heard that also ministered to me.

I had also created a playlist that I can go to when I want to praise God and perhaps am not sure of how or where to start.

You can create a playlist and a joy list. List of songs that warm your heart and things that give you joy.

Dear Afflicted Saint — Faith is not the absence of pain

A few days after my dad passed on, as I walked through the corridor of my house to go outside, I heard whispers of fear, pain, and uncertainty, then I spoke out .“My life is not in the hands of my earthly father but my Heavenly Father”.

There are days I’d be in pain, on my bed, while walking, in random places and moments and I whisper “I Trust you”, “ I trust You Jesus”, “I don’t understand, but I choose to trust You”, I’m in pain Jesus, help me trust You”, “Help me trust You”.

Before losing my dad, I had been trying to learn a lot about the Christian Faith and Pain. I had encountered situations that made me experience what it feels like for my reason to totter, not just once, but many times.

This loss made me search deeper in a bid to succor this deep sorrow I felt.

Here’s what I learnt — The notes I took :

• The same Heavenly Father who picked up His son out of the muck, misery, and mistreatment can do the same for me and you.
• The mind can descend far lower than the body, for in it there are bottomless pits. The flesh can bear only a certain number of rounds and no more, but the soul can bleed in ten thousand ways, and die over and over again each hour.
• Christian Faith on earth is neither an escape nor heaven.
• We do not equate spiritual blessing with circumstantial ease — Remember that none of your trials can prove you to be a lost man.
• Broken-hearted one, Jesus Christ knows all your troubles, for similar troubles were his portion.
• The pain and deep sorrows we feel are not unique to us — You are not the first child of God who has known this deep pain and sorrow. Even among the noblest of men and women who ever lived, there has been much of this kind of pain. Do not, therefore, think that you are alone in your sorrow.
• As you experience this deep sorrow, you may grow terribly weak, even in faith, but you are not lost to God.
• The grief and pain you experience are no index of declining grace. It is Christ and not the absence of pain that saves you and me. Your hope, therefore, does not reside in your ability to preserve a good mood but in His ability to bear you up. Jesus will never abandon you with your downcast heart.
• Perhaps you are downcast, and you think that grace is leaving you, but it will not. Your spiritual life does not depend upon nature, else it might expire. It depends upon grace, and grace will never cease to shine till it lights you to glory.
• Let your weakness plead with God through Jesus Christ. His mercies are large enough to hold secure what you cannot. Your hope is not in your ability, but God’s ability to be the strength you need.
• In your pain, see God as compassionate toward me and you who suffer this way.

Conclusion

So sing with joy, afflicted one, the battle is fierce, but the victory is won. God shall supply all that you need, and as your days, so shall be your strength.

When your heart is heavy and tired, please feel free to reach out. There is a code sign you can send to me. It is “!”, just send that and I will understand.

On days when no human can comfort your aching heart, when every word has fallen short, you have a savior who reads your heart. He is not the kind to walk away. He is not impatient. He always stays.

When you are found in the shadow place, when others can’t know the things you face, there He will tarry, there He will wait, His presence with you is your daybreak.

He knows your deepest desire. He knows you better than you do. He is always listening.