Reconnected by Grace

-
Image
Part 2 of the “Created to Connect” Series Ephesians 2:1–10 by Bart Denny When Life Won’t Click Together Have you ever stepped on a LEGO in the dark? You don’t forget it. But here’s something else about LEGO bricks—they’re not meant to exist by themselves. A single piece might look fine sitting on a table… but it doesn’t fulfill its purpose until it connects. That’s the idea behind this series: God didn’t create you to live disconnected. He created you to connect—to Him and to one another. Last week, we saw that clearly in the words of Jesus: “I am the vine; you are the branches…” (John 15:5, NIV) Life only works when we stay connected to Him. But that raises an honest question: If we were created to connect… why do we feel so disconnected? Why does it feel like we’re trying—but something just won’t come together? When Trying Harder Doesn’t Work If you’re honest, you’ve probably felt this. You know the right things. You’re doing the right things. From...
Post a Comment

When Words Won’t Do: The Ministry of Presence in Unspeakable Grief

-

by Bart L. Denny, Ph.D., Th.M.

One of the most difficult things I’ve ever done in ministry happened during my time as a hospital chaplain resident, learning the ropes of clinical pastoral care. It was a weekend shift (always a busy time) when I was dispatched to a “code” in the pediatric intensive care unit. My heart sank. My stomach knotted up.

The patient was a baby—just a few weeks old—who had recently undergone surgery to correct a heart defect. For what must have been forty agonizing minutes, I stood by helplessly as the medical team fought with every ounce of strength and skill to save that child’s life. Despite their herculean efforts, the baby didn’t make it.

Eventually, the tearful staff left the room and turned it over to me, the chaplain.

As I stepped in, I saw the young parents, shattered, holding the lifeless body of their child. The baby’s distraught grandparents stood nearby. I have three children of my own, now grown, but I remember loving each of them fiercely before they ever took their first breath. I could not imagine  (and still cannot imagine) what it would be like to endure that kind of heartbreak. Just putting myself in their shoes brought tears to my eyes as I entered the room.

Despite all the training I’d received, nothing prepares you for this.

When Christians Say the Wrong Thing

Well-meaning believers often rush to fill the silence of grief with words. Too often, those words that are unhelpful, even harmful.

“God needed her more than we did.” Really? I believe with all my heart that a child who dies enters the loving arms of the Almighty. But the idea that the sovereign God of the universe somehow needed someone’s baby more than their own parents did? I couldn’t believe that if it were one of my children.

Or we hear: “Heaven gained another angel.” That’s not only theologically incorrect—human beings and angels are entirely different types of created beings—it’s also emotionally tone-deaf.

And then there’s perhaps the cruelest of them all, said to some grieving parents: “You can always have another child.” Maybe not. Maybe this was their one shot after years of infertility. Even if they could have more children, I immediately ask myself which one of mine could I ever replace? Each child is irreplaceable. Unique. Loved beyond measure.

These statements, though often offered with good intentions, can deepen the ache rather than comfort the soul.

What Can You Say in a Moment Like This?

Often, nothing.

Even those who believe in the truth and hope of Scripture, as I do, don’t always feel its comfort in the immediate aftermath of tragedy. There’s a time for that healing, but it rarely comes in the first few hours or even days. The shock is too raw. The pain too fresh. That’s when we need something else.

We need presence.

The Biblical Model of Presence

In John 11, Jesus arrives at the tomb of His friend Lazarus. He knows He’s about to raise him from the dead. And yet, before He performs the miracle, Jesus simply weeps.

“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)

He enters into the grief of those He loves. He does not rebuke them for crying. He does not immediately explain what He’s about to do. He just weeps.

The Apostle Paul calls us to follow that same pattern:

“Mourn with those who mourn.” (Romans 12:15, NIV)

Job’s story in the Old Testament teaches a similar lesson. After Job loses everything—his wealth, his health, and his ten children—his friends Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar come to comfort him. Their first instincts are spot-on:

“When they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.” —Job 2:12–13 (NIV)

They mourned with Job. They didn’t rush to explain or fix his pain. They simply showed up and sat with him.

It was only when they opened their mouths and tried to explain the suffering that everything went wrong. In their attempt to make sense of the senseless, they inflicted further wounds.

That’s still true today.

When Silence Is the Best Ministry

Here’s the hard truth: When someone is grieving a tragedy so deep, like the loss of a child, your words, however well-intended, are likely inadequate. And that’s okay.

In fact, recognizing that you don’t know what to say is a good thing.

So what should you do?

  • Be quiet. Resist the urge to speak too soon.
  • Be still. Sit in the discomfort. Let silence be your companion.
  • Be present. Offer your company. Stay as long as needed.

Don’t speculate on God’s plans. Don’t quote Scripture like a bandage to stop the bleeding. Just be there. Listen. Weep. Pray silently if you must. Or gently acknowledge the pain without trying to explain it away.

That’s what the ministry of presence looks like. And in moments of deep grief, it often speaks louder than any sermon ever could.

Final Thoughts

Grief, especially the grief of losing a child, is sacred ground. Don’t trample it with careless theology or trite phrases. Instead, offer what Jesus offered. What Job’s friends first offered.

Offer your tears.

Offer your presence.

Offer your love.

And trust the Holy Spirit to bring healing in His time.

About the Author

Bart L. Denny, Ph.D., Th.M. is a pastor, leadership enthusiast, and veteran church revitalizer. He serves as the lead pastor of Pathway – A Wesleyan Church in rural western Michigan and as an adjunct instructor in the College of Theology at Grand Canyon University. A retired U.S. Navy officer, Bart holds a Ph.D. in Christian leadership and has a passion for equipping churches and leaders for faithful, gospel-centered ministry—especially in small, rural, or revitalization contexts.

Comments

Post a Comment

All comments are moderated. I welcome respectful disagreement with my posts. Such discussions can cause me to consider perspectives I hadn't examined before. However, I also reserve the right to delete any comment for any reason. Why? Simple enough, this is MY blog, with MY thoughts, and I want to have a civil conversation that is, at all times, God-honoring in nature.

Popular posts from this blog

Why Christians Should Oppose the Death Penalty (Even If the Bible Affirms It)

-
By Bart L. Denny, Ph.D., Th.M. Let’s Be Honest: The Bible Doesn’t Shy Away from the Death Penalty The Bible makes it plain: God established capital punishment as part of His justice. From Genesis 9:6 to Romans 13, Scripture consistently affirms the state’s right to wield the sword. Even Jesus, while showing mercy, never denied the legitimacy of that authority. So if Scripture supports the death penalty, why should modern Christians push back? Here’s the Problem: Today’s Death Penalty Isn’t Biblical Capital punishment, in God’s design, was supposed to be fair, swift, and just. The Mosaic Law didn’t hand out death sentences lightly. It required two or more eyewitnesses. It punished false testimony harshly. It didn’t discriminate. But our modern systems—particularly in the U.S.—are riddled with inconsistency, bias, and delay. They fail to meet the biblical standard. What Justice Looks Like in God’s Eyes High burden of proof (Deut. 19:15) Equal treatment of rich and poor ...
Read more

When Civility Fails: A Pastor’s Response to Violence, Rage, and the Hard Work of Truth

-
Image
  by Bart L. Denny, Ph.D. Introduction — Why I must speak I have been reflecting on recent events in our nation and wrestling with how best to speak into them. As a follower of Jesus Christ and as a pastor, I believe my calling is to shed more light than heat in times of turmoil, and to offer the seasoning of grace in a culture that often tastes bitter. This will not be an exercise in soft-peddling. It will be frank, pastoral, and, where necessary, unflinching. Somewhere, this post will fail to address a consideration that it might have spoken to. I own it, saying in my defense only that space prevents my discussing everything that might be said on a subject and my views on it. Yet undoubtedly, this will cover more ground than most newspaper op-ed articles. Some readers may focus on one thing I say in the post without taking the entirety of what I said here in context. I pray you won't. But I resign myself to the likelihood some will. What I saw this past week I saw a young...
Read more

How Much More? Praying with Persistence

-
Image
by Bart Denny Have you ever noticed how persistence changes outcomes? Parents know this all too well. A child wants a cookie before dinner, or a toy at the store, and the answer is “no.” But the request doesn’t stop there. They ask again. And again. Eventually—sometimes just for the sake of peace—we give in. Persistence works. But here’s the question: if persistence can move us—imperfect parents and imperfect people—what happens when persistence is brought before our perfect, loving, just heavenly Father? That’s the point Jesus drives home in Luke 18:1–8. He tells a parable “to show them that they should always pray and not give up.” The story contrasts two characters: a corrupt judge with no fear of God, and a powerless widow who had no advocate but one weapon—persistence. And persistence won. If a widow could win justice from an unjust judge simply by refusing to quit, how much more can God’s children expect from the most just Judge of all when we persist in prayer? Let’s expl...
Read more