Grief doesn’t keep a schedule. It can feel heavy and quiet one day and arrive like a wave the next, set off by a song, a smell, an empty chair. If you have lost someone or something you loved, there is no right way to feel and no deadline for feeling better.
The Bible makes room for sorrow. Jesus wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus, even though he knew what he was about to do. A whole book of Scripture, Lamentations, is a lament, and so are many of the psalms. The verses below won’t rush you. They are here to remind you that God draws near to broken hearts, and that death does not get the last word.
The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
Nigh means near. David wrote this psalm after a narrow escape, when he had every reason to feel alone. A contrite spirit is a crushed one. This verse doesn’t say God waits at a distance until you feel better. It says he comes close to people who are broken, right where they are.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
These words come from the opening of the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus names the people God especially blesses. Mourners are on the list. That can sound strange, since grief doesn’t feel like a blessing. But Jesus isn’t praising the pain. He is promising that those who mourn will not be left without comfort.
He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.
Read the next verse too: he counts the stars and calls them all by name. The same God who keeps the universe bends low to bandage wounds. Healing in Scripture is often slow and tender, like a wound that has been bound up and given time. You don’t have to be finished grieving to be in his care.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Many people first hear this verse at a funeral. David, a shepherd himself, pictures a dark valley the sheep must walk through, not around. The rod protected the flock and the staff guided it. The verse doesn’t remove the valley. It changes who walks through it with you: for thou art with me.
And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.
This comes near the very end of the Bible, in John’s vision of a new heaven and a new earth. God himself wipes away the tears. It’s a picture of a future where death and sorrow are gone for good. On days when grief feels permanent, this verse is a reminder that it is not.
Father, my heart is broken, and some days I don’t have words for it. Thank you for coming near to the brokenhearted. Hold me in this valley. Comfort me in the ways I need and can’t ask for, and give me grace for the hard moments I don’t see coming. Thank you for the love that makes this hurt so much. I trust you with the day when every tear is wiped away. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Read Psalm 23 out loud, slowly, all six verses. Then write down the name of the one you’re missing and one thing you’re grateful for about them. If it helps, let someone you trust know that today is a hard day. Grief is lighter when it’s shared, even a little.