This is not the column I intended to write for this week, but life events have overtaken me and I have had to surrender my wife of fifty four years into the loving arms of Jesus. In Salvation Army parlance, she has been “Promoted to Glory”. In her place I am left with a grief so profound and painful my only hope of relief has to come from scipture and I feel promted by the Holy Spirit to share my study with you, with the prayer that it might be a means of comfort to you or a loved one.
Grief is one of the hardest things we ever face. It comes when we lose someone or something dear, leaving an emptiness that words can barely touch. For me—and for many believers—grief has a way of testing faith, revealing what we truly believe about God’s goodness, love, and promises. Yet through reading Scripture, I’ve come to realize that grief is not something to hide or rush through. It’s a sacred space where God meets us with compassion, honesty, and hope.
The Bible doesn’t shy away from the pain of loss. It shows that even people of great faith wept and struggled to understand their sorrow. Jesus Himself “was a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief” (Isaiah 53:3, NLT). When His friend Lazarus died, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35, NLT). That moment moves me. Even though Jesus knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead, He still entered into the pain of that loss. He didn’t stand apart from grief—He felt it, and through that, He gave me permission to feel it too.
I have to admit there have been times in my life when I have tried to hold back tears, thinking faith meant being strong or “moving on.” But the Psalms remind me that God welcomes our honesty. David once wrote, “My tears have been my food day and night” (Psalm 42:3, NLT). That tells me it’s okay to bring my pain before God. He doesn’t ask me to pretend I’m fine. In fact, Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” What a beautiful promise—to know that especially when my heart is shattered, God is not far away. He is near, holding me in my weakness.
Still, Christian grief is different from despair. Paul wrote, “You will not grieve like people who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13, NLT). That doesn’t mean we don’t cry or miss those we’ve lost—it means our grief is mingled with hope. Because of Jesus’ resurrection, death no longer has the final word. “For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died” (1 Thessalonians 4:14, NLT).
That truth brings me comfort in these moments of deepest loss. The separation I feel now is only temporary. One day, every tear will be wiped away. Revelation 21:4 gives me this promise: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” I am holding onto that verse when the grief feels too heavy—because it reminds me that pain will not last forever, but God’s love will.
Even knowing that, grief is still hard. It comes in waves—some gentle, and some that knock me off my feet. But I read that God’s grace will be present even there. Hebrews 4:15–16 says, “This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do… So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.” When I don’t have words to pray, when all I can offer God is my tears, He still listens.
I believe my grief will also deepen my faith in unexpected ways. James wrote, “When troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy… for when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow” (James 1:2–3, NLT). My sorrow will soften me, teaching me compassion for others who suffer. As Paul said, “He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others” (2 Corinthians 1:4, NLT). Sometimes, the comfort God gives us becomes the very gift we can offer someone else.
In the end, my grief reminds me that this world is not my final home. It stirs a longing for heaven—a place where brokenness is healed, and love is whole again. Every loss we experience points us toward that eternal hope.
So while grief will always be painful, it is not without purpose. It draws us closer to Jesus, who knows our pain and walks beside us in it. It deepens our compassion and strengthens our faith. And most of all, it points us to the promise that one day, “sorrow and mourning will disappear” (Isaiah 35:10, NLT). Until that day comes, I choose to grieve with hope—trusting the God who turns mourning into joy and who will make all things new and beautiful — in His time.
Blessings on you and yours, Jim Black
P.S. if you’d like to read previous ruminations of mine they can be found at https://blog.salvationarmyconcordca.org