Those Who Mourn

by Nichole Haugen

Grief is pain. It can feel never-ending. There might be glimpses of hope, but even those can lead you to feelings of guilt. Grief can feel crushing and overwhelming, as if it will never resolve. 

Here are some ways to manage the intense pain of grief.

To begin with, it can be comforting to understand what is physically happening. When someone we love dies, especially suddenly, the brain interprets that loss as a threat to safety and survival. The nervous system responds automatically. Your amygdala—the brain’s alarm center—goes on high alert.

This is why your thoughts may race. Why you may feel anxious or panicky without knowing why. It can feel hard to focus, make decisions, or pray.

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At the same time, the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for reasoning, clarity, and emotional regulation—becomes less accessible under stress. So when someone says, “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle,” you may think you must be doing something wrong… because this definitely feels like more than you can handle. 

So how do we find relief? Our brain wants us to check out, and sometimes that comes in the form of turning to a vice: scrolling on our phone, or overindulgence in food or alcohol. It is searching for any kind of relief, even if it is short-lived. Soon, however, this may lead to feeling worse, and the thought of any healthy forward movement can seem like you are trying to pull yourself out of sludge.

The quickest way to shorten this stress response is to be aware that it’s happening. We can’t work on healing something we don’t realize is ailing us. 

Once we are aware that this is happening, it may seem to get worse before it gets better. Having the awareness does not mean that it’s easy to stop ourselves from seeking comfort or escape in worldly pleasures when we feel pain. Just know that this is normal, and it’s a process. Think of it like cleaning out a closet: we get half way done, but it looks worse. We are tired and don’t want to carry on, but we do it because we want to finish. We want the closet to be back in order. So must we persevere when we find ourselves seeking a source of comfort that ultimately does not satisfy us. Remind yourself that Christ provides a comfort that lasts.

Troost zoek bij Christus (Seek Comfort in Christ)

This perseverance can be so challenging. We often want to skip past the difficult parts and make everything better right away.

This does not work in grief. It is a process. Instead, ponder the questions, “How can I draw 1% closer to Jesus this week?”

Start gentle, start slow. Maybe you want to read a scripture or just say, “Jesus, I trust in You” morning, noon, and night. Whatever the 1% is, keep coming back to that. It’s 1% week by week until suddenly, you look back and see you are 10% closer to the Lord.

Relief in grief is not the absence of pain. It is moments of safety within it.

It may look like one steady breath when your chest feels tight. One prayer whispered through tears. One choice to stay present instead of numbing out. These moments matter more than you think. They are signs that your nervous system is learning, slowly, that you are not alone in this suffering.

Jesus does not stand at the finish line of your healing, waiting for you to figure it out. He meets you in the middle of the ache, in the fatigue, in the desire for it all to stop hurting. Rest is not something you earn by doing grief “right.” It is something you receive, little by little along the way.

If all you can do today is survive the wave without escaping it, that is enough. If all you can offer God is your honesty that it hurts, that is prayer. Relief comes not by rushing the process, but by allowing yourself to be held in it.

And for now, that 1%—that small, faithful turning toward Jesus—is more than enough.

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