Our previous articles have examined grief largely from a clinical perspective, providing an overview of contemporary thinking about grief and grieving. Naturally, what has been missing from all of these articles is the perspective that we might gain from our Father in heaven through the words of Scripture. This then, our final article in this series, is a Biblical perspective on the subject of grief.
Review
As we have already discussed, grief is our reaction to a loss of some kind and, while the loss can be things such as jobs, opportunities, and abilities (such as eyesight or mobility), we usually associate grief with the loss of life, which grief we call bereavement. We’ve worked through ‘models’ of grief, seen our common reactions, visited depression, considered good things and not so good things to do.
We discussed ‘models’ of grief being good descriptively, but not necessarily prescriptively, and we outlined a reasonably loose structure in which we experience some form of shock, then some period of emotional upheaval, followed by a period of resolution and acceptance. Unless the loss has long been expected and was well planned for, as in the case of a terminal illness for example, we are unable to do much about the initial shock. Understanding the grief process and having good supports can help us work through this more effectively, but we reached the point at which we understood that secular thinking can only take us so far. It is now that the real benefit of the Truth is evident.
In an organisational sense, life in the Truth offers robust systems and strong relationships with regular routines and social structures. All of these things are valuable. In addition to life in the truth, we then have the Bible, which, through the guidance and intelligence it gives, allows us the opportunity to be actively involved in the most complicated and longest lasting phase, which is the upheaval period.
For our exhortation and encouragement, Scripture gives us a full and candid view of our reaction to loss, and how we might work through what we’ve seen can be a difficult and complex process, particularly the middle phase, and it is here that our efforts are more concentrated. We propose a Biblical conceptualisation of how we might best work through the difficulties here and so more readily move to resolution and acceptance. This is not to say that we can avoid upheaval altogether though, for Scripture tells us that this is normal, as evidenced by the following examples.
Four Stories
Job
Scripture tells us of Job who, in addition to his possessions and his health, lost his family, and then as if the loss of these things wasn’t enough, also lost his support and friendship. He laments generally in Job 30:27–31:
“My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat. My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.”
Can we identify with the pain in Job’s words and indeed with the story of Job as we read it for he loses almost everything that he has?
But perhaps more than Job, David is one of our best sources of information about grief, as he experienced a life full of extremes and then felt moved to write of his situation. Many of the most emotional readings we have are from David.
David
Following the death of Jonathan and Saul, David composed a very moving and elegiac lamentation, recorded for us in 2 Samuel 1 from verse 17. In it he expresses his admiration for Jonathan and Saul both, and pours out his distress at his loss.
“Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided: they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions. Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul, who clothed you in scarlet, with other delights, who put on ornaments of gold upon your apparel. How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan: very pleasant hast thou been unto me: thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.”
Both Job and David are very eloquent and poetic, and illustrate the depth of feeling we can all feel when grieving. David also wrote a very precise account in Psalm 6 of a depressive reaction to the events in his life. He tells us, “I am weary with my groaning; all the night I make my bed to swim; I drench my couch with my tears, my eye wastes away with my grief…”(v6–7).
Jeremiah
Appropriately called Lamentations, the words of Jeremiah capture extremely well the hopelessness and misery so often associated with grief, and the depression that can accompany it. So illustrative of his own personal distress and despair are the first twenty verses of this, his third poem, that they are worth repeating in their entirety.
“I am the man that hath seen affliction by the rod of his wrath. He hath led me, and brought me into darkness, but not into light. Surely against me is he turned; he turneth his hand against me all the day. My flesh and my skin hath he made old; he hath broken my bones. He hath built against me, and compassed me with gall and travail. He hath set me in dark places, as they that be dead of old. He hath hedged me about, that I cannot get out: he hath made my chain heavy. Also when I cry and shout, he shutteth out my prayer. He hath enclosed my ways with hewn stone, he hath made my paths crooked. He was unto me as a bear lying in wait, and as a lion in secret places. He hath turned aside my ways, and pulled me in pieces: he hath made me desolate. He hath bent his bow, and set me as a mark for the arrow. He hath caused the arrows of his quiver to enter into my reins. I was a derision to all my people; and their song all the day. He hath filled me with bitterness, he hath made me drunken with wormwood. He hath also broken my teeth with gravel stones, he hath covered me with ashes. And thou hast removed my soul far off from peace: I forgot prosperity. And I said, My strength and my hope is perished from the LORD: Remembering mine affliction and my misery, the wormwood and the gall. My soul hath them still in remembrance, and is humbled in me.”
Jesus
None of us can escape grief, for we all suffer at different times, and while David, Job and Jeremiah can write so fluently, we also know that a few very simple words can express equally profound feelings.
“Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead… Then when Mary was come where Jesus was, and saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying unto him, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled. And said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto him, Lord, come and see. Jesus wept. Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him!”
Between them, these passages clearly show the troubled mind, the physical manifestations of emotion and distress, behavioural components, the wretchedness and emptiness, the helplessness and the hopelessness that can accompany grief. To be sure, none of us might ever write such searching prose when grieving, but many of us can identify with the sentiments contained within them.
As the Father Suffered Grief, So will We
One of the key themes of the book of Job is the concepts his friends put to him: sin brings suffering. By extension, for Job to be suffering like he is, he must have sinned gratuitously, and so the theme develops. In reality, we know that the argument went wildly astray, and we know that God maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust (Matt 5:45). Good things happen to sinners. Bad things happen to the righteous. Put another way—things happen:
“I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all” (Eccl 9:11).
Because it is a normal part of life, we can expect to experience grief at any time, and any number of times. In the upheaval phase, there is one main, common reaction, which we experience with grief and other forms of significant trial. It is the reaction that wants order and structure on chaos. It wants explanations and meaning where none are obvious. It wants answers where none might exist.
“Why me?” “Why is this happening?” “Why not me?” They’re unanswerable, and yet cause for us much of the continued anguish associated with grief. They lead to more questions, of the “What if…?” kind.
What if we’d seen the doctor earlier?
What if we hadn’t gone that way?
What if I’d been more faithful?
What if we’d exercised more?
What if I’d prayed more?
What if I’d done… ?
The result is the emotional turmoil we see in grief. We ask these questions as part of our search for understanding, to try and make sense of what has happened; to make things like they were before. Typically there is no reasonable and sane answer.
We question (and it is these questions that form the basis of much of the difficulty and complexity of the grief process) and, if we can answer them here, then it may make the grief process itself all the more understood. Before we delve into the process of grief proper, let us consider Israel’s deliverance from bondage.
The Parable of the Red Sea
It was an extraordinary night. Having left Egypt under remarkable circumstances, the people were to be witness to yet more. For now, though, more urgent matters took their attention. They were about to lose their freedom. They were about to lose their lives. They were troubled and afraid.
Foes chased them, intent on their destruction. Unclimbable walls rose on either side, hemming them in. They were herded to the edge of the sea in front of them. The east wind screamed across the water toward them and howled up the ravine. Thunder and lightning raged from above and darkness pressed on them from all sides. All around was anguish. There was nowhere to go, every direction was perilous, and there they were, in the vortex of that maelstrom.
Grief can be similarly suffocating and claustrophobic. It, too, can feel like foes on every side and as though there is nowhere to go. And we can waver, as did the Hebrews.
“And when Pharaoh drew nigh, the children of Israel lifted up their eyes, and, behold, the Egyptians marched after them; and they were sore afraid: and the children of Israel cried out unto the LORD. And they said unto Moses, Because there were no graves in Egypt, hast thou taken us away to die in the wilderness? wherefore hast thou dealt thus with us, to carry us forth out of Egypt? Is not this the word that we did tell thee in Egypt, saying, Let us alone, that we may serve the Egyptians? For it had been better for us to serve the Egyptians, than that we should die in the wilderness” (Exodus 14).
In their despair, in the depths of their distress, they crumbled. They question their God and their faith is shown wanting, such is the anguish that afflicts them. “WHY US?” they cry.
A Personal Parallel of the Parable of the Red Sea
Psalm 77 is a beautifully expressive Psalm which shows how Asaph’s thoughts mirror those of his forbears during the crossing of the Red Sea. It is a Psalm that illustrates his difficulty with reconciling the academic knowledge that God is a mighty God Who never forsakes us, with his obvious suffering and hopelessness.
“In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted. I remembered God, and was troubled: I complained, and my spirit was overwhelmed. Selah. Thou holdest mine eyes waking: I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times. I call to remembrance my song in the night: I commune with mine own heart: and my spirit made diligent search. Will the Lord cast off forever? and will he be favorable no more? Is his mercy clean gone forever? doth his promise fail for evermore? Hath God forgotten to be gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies?” (Psa 77:2–9)
This Psalm clearly shows Asaph’s thought process, and we can track the development of his conclusions. He begins by stating his affliction, and continues by writing that he was struggling with his faith, and had conflicting thoughts about his suffering and his wish to glorify God. Uncomfortable, perhaps from physical and mental torment, he obtained no respite from his anguish, not even in the usual and familiar refuge of sleep. He reflects, considering God’s hand in the past, and calling to remembrance his own, previously successful, strategies when he could praise God in times of distress through song (see also Psa 42:8 and Acts 16:25). Alas, it is of no use now. And so Asaph questions his God, his faith wavering. Had God forgotten to be gracious and merciful?
The Parable of the Red Sea 2
In response to the wailing of the people and the torment in their hearts, Moses cries out across the noise to the people. Though they were terrified and trapped, unable to think clearly, reduced to kneejerk reactivity by their fear, Moses gave clear, simple instructions, saying unto the people:
“Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the LORD, which he will show to you today”
What happened has become legendary, as the Hebrews were delivered once more from the hand of the Egyptians. What’s critical for us, is what Moses said. Naturally, he was applying his words to nigh on two million people in incredible circumstances, and yet the same sentiments apply equally to us who may feel as if we are alone on the edge of the same sea.
Don’t be afraid
Stand still
Yahweh will save you
And just as God is able to deliver in mighty ways and on such a grand scale as He did through the waters of the Red Sea, so can He deliver us from our distress.
A Personal Parallel of The Parable of the Red Sea 2
Already we’ve seen Asaph questioning his God, wrestling with the opposing concepts in his mind of God’s help and yet his personal suffering. Clearly we can see our own struggles reflected in Asaph’s words, and see how easy it is to query the nearness of God. The progression of Asaph’s thinking from this point forward is also illuminating, as he springboards from the example of the Red Sea.
“And I said, This is my infirmity: but I will remember the years of the right hand of the most High. I will remember the works of the LORD: surely I will remember thy wonders of old. I will meditate also of all thy work, and talk of thy doings. Thy way, O God, is in the sanctuary: who is so great a God as our God? Thou art the God that doest wonders: thou hast declared thy strength among the people. Thou hast with thine arm redeemed thy people, the sons of Jacob and Joseph. Selah. The waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee; they were afraid: the depths also were troubled. The clouds poured out water: the skies sent out a sound: thine arrows also went abroad. The voice of thy thunder was in the heaven: the lightnings lightened the world: the earth trembled and shook. Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known. Thou leddest thy people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron” (Psa 77:10–20).
He recognises that the infirmity is his own, and he catches his train of thought in mid-process and re-directs it back towards God. He revisits his original thinking, and confirms for himself that God is, in fact, great, for He had delivered His people by His stretched out arm through marvellous displays of His power.
Ultimately Asaph understands that he will manage because, although not explicit in his words, evident in his thinking are some key elements. He knows that there is no answer to “WHY?”. An equally good question is “Why not?”, for which we also struggle to find an answer. But there are two swords that the righteous can wield for this particular Gordian knot, which are the elements evident in Asaph’s thinking from Psalm 77.
Two answers
Firstly, in Psalm 77 Asaph recognises that the way God works is not always known to us or understood by us. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD” (Isa 55:8), and nor are we able sometimes to comprehend Him. We cannot second guess God, we cannot presume to know His thinking. Rephrased, we might never know the answer to “Why?”, but can be assured that God knows. We can exit this carousel because we know that God works in ways we don’t understand. “Why?” is, therefore, a futile question.
Secondly, as we read in Exodus 14:15–17:
“And the LORD said unto Moses, Wherefore criest thou unto me? speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward: But lift thou up thy rod, and stretch out thine hand over the sea, and divide it: and the children of Israel shall go on dry ground through the midst of the sea. And I, behold, I will harden the hearts of the Egyptians, and they shall follow them: and I will get me honour upon Pharaoh, and upon all his host, upon his chariots, and upon his horsemen.”
So is there opportunity to give glory to God. Together, these notions are an incredibly powerful tool. Much of our torment with grief is created by our inability to understand what has happened. We try to attach meaning to it, we try to organise our loss into the framework of our lives, we try to analyse it by hurling questions at it. Those parts of our brain that allow reason to control emotion become overwhelmed and ineffective. Physical and behavioural symptoms manifest themselves, and so it continues.
Together, these two concepts allow the believer to exit the morass of confusion created by grief.
Don’t worry about why
Instead, give glory to God
These two concepts are perhaps best summarised in Romans 11:33–36.
“O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been his counsellor? Or who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again? For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things: to whom be glory forever. Amen.”
The Faithful Over the Unfaithful
The faithful, during grief (or distress, or pain, or trouble, or stress, or torment) have significant advantages over the atheist. Research shows that for those with a clear, organised and structured faith, and one which is central to their lives, the chances of developing mental illness are fewer than for the unbeliever. If mental illness does develop, then it is likely to be less severe and of shorter duration. Most of the angst associated with secular life is minimised by a strong faith, because we have consistent, coherent answers. So it is with grief.
When we feel that we are facing our own Red Sea, we know that there is a path in the water. Where is it exactly? We don’t know. But we know it’s there.
When we feel surrounded by foes, be they stress, depression, anxiety, or other grief reactions, we know that there is help.
“And when the servant of the man of God was risen early, and gone forth, behold, a host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. And his servant said unto him, Alas, my master! how shall we do? And he answered, Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them. And Elisha prayed, and said, LORD, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the LORD opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha” (2 Kings 6:15–17)
Notice the key things in these verses?
Don’t be afraid
Stand still
Yahweh will save you
This is a conceptualisation, a framework, of how we can think about grief and loss. We don’t need to ask, or answer the “Why?” or “What if?” questions, because we trust God, even if we don’t understand His ways. On a more mundane level, the question then becomes, “Yes, but what next. What do I do!?” Let us consider the words of David.
Two Key Elements of Healing
In Psalm 30:1–5 we have a wonderful description of David’s reaction to trial.
“A Psalm and Song at the dedication of the house of David. I will extol thee, O LORD; for thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me. O LORD my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me. O LORD, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit. Sing unto the LORD, O ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holiness. For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”
Psalm 30 applies to literal and metaphorical foes, and the principles relate particularly well to the foe that is the frailty of our flesh: illness, weakness, anxiety, depression and so on. For our consideration of grief, there are notable elements in this section.
The first, as already noted, is David’s praise to God which is true of all things and, despite his need, David is sure to elevate God before anything else, praising Him for His greatness, and acknowledging that all things are due to the power of God, and not David’s own power. Giving glory to God is always to be our first step. David then reveals two central aspects of the grief process and, together, they are the pivot on which healing and recovery turn. The first is obvious to all.
1 – Seek God
We know that God will help. Of this there is no doubt. Academically too, we are all confident that this is so. However, there is no doubt that it can also be much more difficult to appreciate this when we are in despair. Just as David questioned the assistance from his God, Scripture records other examples of our faithful brothers and sisters losing faith. We, too, can wonder.
We know that we can find our God in prayer, or in the words of the Bible, and many times we hear well-meaning brothers and sisters say to the despairing, “Just read your Bible”. Many of us who have suffered know that, while this is well meant, it is cold comfort. We can’t concentrate and we can’t remember. We have no motivation to read, or everything we read reminds us of our loss. We read and then feel guilty for not feeling better.
It is certain that the Bible contains all the answers we ever need, and we are right to continue in the Word, but in times of great distress we are often unable to find the answers, and feel the more miserable because we are not doing well, even though we are doing what we are supposed to do!
We also know that:
1 “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it” (1 Cor 10:13)
2 “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Phil 4:13)
3 “For with God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:37).
It is a nice connection to make between 1Corinthians 10, that God also makes a way to escape, and the passage through the Red Sea which Asaph alludes to in Psalm 77, “Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known” (v19).
We might not know the path, but God surely has provided one, just as he did for Moses and the people.
Assuredly we know these things. God will not destroy us. We can draw strength from Him. He can do anything.
But, practically, they are concepts that can sometimes seem a million miles from us. In the middle of grief, when our usual coping resources can so easily seem overwhelmed, these can be the last things we think.
This is not the time for careful verse by verse study, or prolonged reading. This is the time to go directly to God in prayer.
1 “Is any among you afflicted? Let him pray” (James 5:13)
2 “The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit” (Psa 34:18)
3 “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psa 46:1)
4 “Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me” (Psa 50:15)
5 “As for me, I will call upon God; and the LORD shall save me” (Psa 55:16)
6 “He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds” (Psa 147:3)
7 “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness” (Isa 41:10)
8 “When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the LORD will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them” (Isa 41:17)
9 “Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you” (1Pet 5:6–7).
There is no doubt that God watches us. If we ever wonder how intimately God knows us, perhaps the following verses may help. “But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows” (Luke 12:7). Every single hair, of every single one of the faithful, is known to Him.
But not only that, He also knows all of our grief, including our trials and distresses. David tells us, “Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?” (Psalm 56:8). They used to call it a lachrymatory, a bottle for tears. The point David makes is that God knows, counts, and keeps record of every tear we shed. None of us could claim that of any other person. God claims it of us all.
The security in knowing the constancy of God, and His assurance that He cares for and will help us forms the basis of the second key feature, for which a little background is useful.
2 – God Provides Hope
When we are caught up in grief and simple decisions seem like mountains too high to scale, we easily lose perspective, and develop a view of the world, or of ourselves, or of the future that is negatively coloured. We ask or say things like:
“I just can’t imagine life without him”
“How can I continue?”
“It’s no use”
“I’m hopeless”
“Will it ever get better?”
We question God, we question ourselves, we question our friends, we question our faith, and we do so in ways that are mostly unanswerable. There is only one way through this wilderness, and it is this:
Hope
But this is not high level hope in the resurrection, or the establishment of the Kingdom, but a much more immediate, prosaic and intimate hope.
This is the hope that things will change This is the hope that I won’t always feel like this This is the hope that it will get easier The hope that the memories will be gentler to bear The hope that I won’t feel different from others The hope that someone is there to help That the next breath will be easier than the last That I can get on top of things That it won’t last forever This is the hope that there is, dare I believe it, hope.
It is this minute by minute hope that comes from our knowledge of and faith in God’s ability to help and heal. It is this personal hope that makes time go faster, that makes burdens seem lighter and that makes the darkness a little lighter.
David wrote so simply in Psalm 30:5 that “weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning”. It will change. It will get better. It will get easier to bear. Separate from the help of God and the importance of hope, there is only one other factor of real importance, touched on in previous articles, and supported by Scripture.
Reliance on Others
Chief among our supports is our God. He is a structural and functional support. He carries our burdens and lightens our load. He answers prayers. We also have recourse to our brethren and sisters, and are exhorted to use them, and they to help us. Proverbs 17:17 reads, “A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” Grief is a difficult situation to help in, because it is so personal to the sufferer and yet, even though we might feel helpless ourselves, our presence and support are invaluable. Job 2:11–13 encourages us:
“Now when Job’s three friends heard of all this evil that was come upon him, they came every one from his own place; Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite: for they had made an appointment together to come to mourn with him and to comfort him. And when they lifted up their eyes afar off, and knew him not, they lifted up their voice, and wept; and they rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven. So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spoke a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great.”
Analysing these few verses highlights some extremely helpful thoughts. The three friends got together to help. Rather than making isolated attempts, they made a coordinated effort which has the benefit of, in addition to sharing Job’s load, sharing the burden of sharing Job’s load. They made no effort to jolly Job or cheer him up; he did not need to appear as though he was happy, or coping. Job did not feel compelled to do anything because they were there, and they placed no expectations upon him. They demonstrated a wonderful application of the notion so helpful for grief supporters: Don’t just do something, sit there. Often, people in grief don’t know what they want helpers to do, except be there while they cry. They don’t need the silence filled with conversation or the latest news, but just to have someone else around who isn’t embarrassed by long silences or sudden tears.
The three friends mourned too, expressing their grief for Job’s loss by lifting up their voice and weeping, suffering with him. 1 Corinthians 12:26 reminds us: “And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it.” And Romans 12:15: “Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.”
However, the only way we can rely on others, is if they are there to be relied upon. Grief, endured alone, is agonizing. Shared, it is bearable, and the comfort of others allows us to be more active. Jesus wept. David composed. Jeremiah wrote. Job mourned for an entire week with his friends. What is important is that they did something. They used the people around them, they cried, sang, prayed, and glorified God. We have our own outlets. Other people allow us to express emotions and give us someone to talk to, and they can help us find our God. These are important considerations, as they allow us to continue our progress through the grief process.
We are right to weep and to mourn: “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven… A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance” (Eccl 3:1,4).
For all of them though, they sought God, and sought to give glory to God.
“Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness; To the end that my glory may sing praise to thee, and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee forever” (Psalm 30:11–12).
Conclusion
Fear not, stand still, and see the salvation of Yah. Seek him in prayer, for He will help, and the sure knowledge of His mercy provides hope that we can heal. Use supports, communicate, be active in the process, and we will surely understand Jeremiah when he wrote in :
“But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies” (Lam 3:32)