When going through loss, you learn a lot. You learn a lot about yourself, and, you learn a lot about those around you. You learn what comforts and what cuts. You learn what helps and what hurts. More specifically, you learn about words. You learn that words can soothe the soul or burn parts of you, you never knew existed.
After my miscarriage, a friend said some painful words. In an attempt to comfort me, she told me that “everything happens for a reason”. She then told me what that “reason” was. “Jane,” she said, “I know why your miscarriage happened, your miscarriage happened because you just weren’t ready for a baby.” My friend’s words seared the hurt inside me. I thought I had hit the bottom, but her “explanation” ripped the bottom from under me. I was at a new level of shame, hurt and anger. Ashamed because I felt like less of a woman, hurt because her “reason” inferred it was something I could have prevented, and angry because I couldn’t keep alive what was so precious and dear to me. Sharp edges of emotions welled up from within, like never before.
From this event, I have discovered that telling someone why their tragedy happened, is detrimental. You see, sometimes, there is no reason for tragedies. And giving a “reason” for another person’s hardship will only add more pain.
Rather than trying to answer “why” something happened, we must ask the question of “how”, as in “how do we go from here?” Asking the question “how” breeds new understanding and resolve to cope with the painful reality ahead. Asking “why” breeds blame, guilt and shame. There is a one letter difference in these two words, but the fruits they yield are two worlds apart.
When someone is hurting, the best thing to do is to be with them. Listen to their pains and refrain from offering a justification to their woes.
“Everything happens for a reason” is a feeble crutch, not a faith filled cure. Not everything happens for a reason. And not all agony can be explained.
More specifically, through your own brokenness, you learn how to handle other’s brokenness, better.c