Dear Shepherdess: My husband and I were visitors in the Australasian Division the first part of 1976 and enjoyed thoroughly the experience of being "under." My husband was busy with many appointments, speaking, counseling, encouraging. I stood by his side happy that he was "esteemed worthy of the responsibilities placed on him."
We met friends we had known before and new ones, two of whom became especially dear to us as we traveled with them from one camp meeting to another through the Australian countryside. We were shown several Adventist churches en route, and had a few hours in the beautiful, well-planned city of Canberra, the capital. Pastor and Mrs. Graham Miller so endeared themselves to us that we invited them to be guests in our home as they came to the United States in October to attend the world advisory of the Youth Department and the Annual Council.
In July we were shocked to hear that Pastor Miller had suffered a fatal heart attack while in West Australia. Forty-nine years of age, dead! We could hardly believe it. Letters of sympathy were written, and then came a reply from Zita, his wife. I want to share her words with you: "Yes, it was a terrible shock, and yet when Pastor Frame came and told me at ten past eleven on that tragic night, the Lord surrounded me with His love and I could almost feel the ever lasting arms holding me safely and securely. I have told you what wonderful, inspiring parents I had, and I could almost hear my father saying to me, 'The Lord could have prevented it but He did not, and it is how we take it that counts.' My darling little mother's voice also rang in my ears as she mused on the news that she had cancer until she said, 'You know, darling, we have to witness not only to men, but to angels and to other worlds just as Job did when Satan buffeted him. Our faith is strong enough to withstand all life's fiery trials and even "though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." This inspiration and strength became mine.'" Then she added, "So, dear friends, while others may question (and they do) why a wonderful man might be stricken down at the height of his career, I do not, because I know that could we see the end from the beginning we would not choose to be led in any other way."
Such courage and faith! This is what Christianity is all about.
Ada Renzi, minister's wife, mother and teacher, writes "Blessed Are They That Mourn . . ." from personal experience. There were three deaths in her family in less than six months.
May we each have the attitude of peace and submission as we place our hand in His each day. Love, Kay.
Blessed are They that Mourn
WE WATCHED as a young widow and her children stood at the fresh grave of her husband; we sat with an elderly woman as her life companion drew his last breath; we were summoned to a home where a mother sobbed over the dead child in her arms; and we re member as if it were yesterday the moment we received word that our own son had been killed in an accident. And always there was the question, "Why, God?"
Until one has experienced tragedy or the loss of a loved one he cannot possibly realize the importance of the support and comfort of friends and relatives during those difficult times. Yet, why is there a tendency for us to back away from these situations, to avoid contact with the bereaved, to change the subject when death is mentioned? Is it because we do not want to get involved in some one else's loss or be reminded of the frailty of life?
Someone once said to me, "I don't go to funerals—they depress me." This attitude is not only selfish but unChristian. Only as we forget our own feelings and try to empathize with those in need can we truly have the spirit of Christ, who was "touched with the feeling of our infirmities."
I prefer to believe that we isolate our selves from the sorrowing because we do not know how to react to death and fear doing or saying the wrong thing. Happily, most of us are well along in years before we have to experience the loss of a loved one, so it is a foreign situation, which we find difficult to relate to. However, as ministers' wives, we are constantly faced with grief situations, and we are in a unique position to be of great comfort to the bereaved. But what to do and say?
An understanding of the grief process is a great help, and the book Good Grief, by Granger Westberg, gives an excellent explanation of the stages of grief.
The first stage is a state of shock—nature's temporary anesthetic so we can bear the pain and sorrow. Words do not matter at this stage. The presence and support of friends and loved ones is needed now.
I recall vividly one incident that happened shortly after the death of our son. I went into the local music store where I often bought music. The owner, a Christian woman, came up to me, put her arms around me, and whispered in my ear, "I'm so sorry." Then, with eyes brimming with tears, she turned and busied herself waiting on a customer. Such a little thing but how much it meant to me!
Let us not be afraid to "weep with those who weep." It was under such circumstances that Jesus wept—the only Biblical record of His doing so. The fact that professional mourners were hired in Bible times and their tears preserved in bottles gives some idea of the importance of this act.
In the early stages of grief there is a tendency of the bereaved to be preoccupied with the pictures, letters, and possessions of the deceased. It is as if he were trying to save all that is left of the individual. There is a desire to store up the good memories, also, so he wants to talk of the deceased. Well-meaning friends, because they do not understand this need, are quick to change the subject and to avoid all mention of anything that might remind him of his loss. So, if you have an incident or memory about the deceased which you can share, by all means do so. Tears may come, but this is a necessary part of the grief process also.
Practical help is needed at this time. "If there is anything I can do" is appreciated, but specific suggestions of help are even better, especially from those close to the individual. An offer to take the children for a few hours, do the shopping, washing, or cook a meal will usually be gratefully accepted. Grief is exhausting and energy is in short sup ply, though there is need to keep busy.
It is true that the degree of loss differs in each case. The closer the relationship and the younger the age of the deceased, the greater the blow. Thus, the adjustment to the loss of an aged parent or distant relative is quicker and easier than that of a child or mate. Also, the unexpected death, such as from a sud den heart attack or accident, is more difficult to accept than death after a lingering illness.
Gradually depression and resentment give way to hope, and the readjustment to normal activities takes place. But no one emerges from grief the same person. If his faith in God is strong he will be drawn into a closer communion with the Creator and Life-giver. He will know in a new way the assurance of God's comforting presence and the reality of His promises. He will gain a whole new perspective on the meaning of life and the value of people over "things." And be cause of his experience, he will be able to comfort others with greater compassion and understanding. Then, when grief is over and the pain has subsided, he can look back and find answers to some of the "why's."
