Beautiful, Wonderful Words of Life

Here is a sampling of the beautiful words of hope and blessing from the church that I received, which I pass on to comfort any bereaved who might need them at the time they read these words. They’re simply too good to keep to myself, and if you ever need to give someone some condolence, steal some of these written mostly by pastors who deal with grief all the time:

May God's love shower over you in this time.

I ache with you.

Our prayers fly upward like sparks and outward towards you all.

You are a deep person and your grief will run deep, both assisted and perhaps magnified by your daughters' loss.


I remember you in my prayers for the Lord to annoint you with his peace and grace and lead you through this healing phase of your life. Remember God is still on his throne and in control, he will see you through.


The God who is with us until the end provides extraordinary people who come around us and love us through the worst pain. Though your individual journey is your own, know that your colleagues are remembering you continuously.


Love yourself the way you love all of us! Be kind to "you" and know that you are surrounded by love, support, and prayers!!


I am praying for all of you. Big prayers. Earnest supplication.


I do not know you, but may our Lord rock you in His arms and give you His peace. Praise be to God that [Bill] has achieved the victory!


I can imagine the pain you and your family must feel. But I do not want to. My mind quickly turns to words of promise and reassurance, resurrection and future hope. But those words are too easy. The joy of the hello determines the pain of the goodbye; and I have a feeling your hello with [Bill] was robust.


The intercessory prayers of others are the safety net between you and the abyss. Fall back into them; they'll hold you.


All you have to do is breathe and God will do the rest, working through those who are surrounding you with their love and prayers.


I have never had the opportunity to meet you. My name is [Matthew] and I'm a senior [where you used to teach]. I was just informed of the loss of your husband, [Bill], while I was reading [the school newsletter.] My condolences to you. I pray that God provides to you space for grieving, space for healing, space for work, space for recovery to mundane things. I wish that I could say something to make things better for you. I just want you to know that I'm praying for you. I pray for God's peace that the world does not know, the peace that the world does not understand. (John 14:27)


May those everlasting arms hold you here as they hold your husband in another way.


This morning's lectionary passage Ecclesiasticus 44:1-15 made me think of all those men and women, saints of the church, who never rose to eccesiastical heights but were intent upon their mission nonetheless. I never met your [Bill]. I regret that, but live and trust that the assembly does indeed declare his wisdom and the congregation proclaims his praise.


May the same Everlasting Arms that have welcomed him Home, also uphold you and your family in these days.


My wife and I will join others in praying for you. Each of us lost dearly loved spouses. We can assure that the Lord will help you to find your way.


May the God who walked with us in Nazareth and Bethany, Jerusalem and the upper room, be known to you and your family as the walking "with us' continues even now.


May the grace of our Lord wrap around you like a cocoon and keep you safe and strong.


I am so deeply saddened by your news. I can only imagine how sorrowful it is to lose a partner of 30 years--and so suddenly. Indeed, his baptism is now complete and the same Lord who brought him into God's family through water and the Spirit now receives him and presents him to God Most High. Even so, the pain and lament at this loss must be deep. . . . May the peace of the Risen Christ be with you and your family.

I lost my first spouse at age 51 also, and so I know the unimaginable sense of loss and the hole that is in your heart at the present time. While we do celebrate the new life promised in baptism, we still grieve our own loss of a loving companion. Be assured of our ongoing prayers for support and comfort.


I was shocked and saddened by your news. I can only imagine the depth of your loss. Please know that you are all in my prayers. I pray that you and your daughters would sense the presence of Christ leading you through this shadowed valley.


My heart is heavy with your sorrow. What a shock for you. I know God is holding you close and I pray friends and family are rallying to your side now. If there is anything I can do, I would stop everything to do it. Please know that your face is right before me and in my heart right now.

I knew this wonderful person really would stop everything to do whatever she could even though she is hundreds of miles away. Just knowing that is a beautiful thing.

The prayers and blessings, not just assurance I was being prayed for, but actual prayers like this were a huge comfort to me:

My prayer is, foremost, that you feel the presence of Jesus who said: "I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you." (John 14:18).


I'm so sorry! My prayers are with you & your family--that our loving God who shares all our hurts would just wrap His arms around you. Sending prayers..."


May you feel in the depths of your soul and around the woundedness of your heart all of our arms holding you close in the union and intimacy of Christ's incarnate love.


Oh Lord, touch her, uphold her, guide her through these the immediate hours and days ahead. Amen.

May you grieve as a woman of hope, strong in the knowledge that because Christ lives, we, too, shall live, both now, and in the life everlasting.


I am circling you and your family with prayer. May the memory and spirit of [Bill] ever singing in your heart and bring you comfort and peace.

God bless and encourage you!


“All creation groans” and we groan along with it. Praying for sustaining grace and peace to you and your family in the coming days.

You are being held in the light.


Dear beloved friend, 
     My spirit grieves the passing of your [Bill]. May God's everlasting arms enfold you and the girls, and other family members and friends who also mourn his loss, with comfort. And may God walk with you through the valley of the shadow of death. [Bill] will be sorely missed. But now he joins the eternal choir (Rev. 7), probably making suggestions. 
      May you hear the beating of unseen wings,
     [John]

I love it when people refer to “your Bill,” as my dear friend who wrote this and a few others did. Though I know Bill was never mine, the possessive somehow acknowledges the deep loss of the broken deep bond we shared. It somehow signifies an understanding of the truth that his death marks the end of our marriage. I like people's kind words about him and their memories of him, which many had. But the words “your Bill” touch a tender place with sweet consolation.  Weird, huh?  That's the way grief is.

I have another friend, whom I haven't known long, who keeps sending me little surds like this, which are like Underdog's secret energy pills: 

There are not enough tears to wash away the pain. And never enough pain to wipe away the love.

These words are a particularly wonderful gift I cling to, along with yet others that come from the same beautifully articulate friend:  This and the promise from Isaiah that God will not snuff out a dimly burning light keep me stumbling on when life is at its darkest.

The candle will go out many times ... but the darkness cannot overcome the light.

But two of my favorites, from two different people who don't know one another, were short and to the point:
That was really what I needed at the time—to know I am still loved. I know better, but somewhere inside I wonder if I'll ever be loved again.  There are times when I feel like I've received more love in my husband's death than I did when I was married to him.  So just receiving love is important. 

Love love love love love only love.

We’re sending you buckets of love.

As wonderful as all these words are, I am also comforted by the honest truth that caused preachers, people of words, to fall silent:

No! . . . . I can't even . . .

I quite simply don’t know what to say, or to write.

Words are poor vehicles for what is needed at such a time. Let me simply say that my prayers and love are yours in the days ahead. If it is any comfort, in your aloneness, you are accompanied by friends.

There are no words. May God supply you and your family with that special "withness" only God can provide in times of overwhelming loss. You are surrounded by many, many prayers.


I am so shocked...prayers, prayers, prayers.


I have no words, I am so sorry.


“Jesus wept.” . . . And so do we.


This preacher has no words, falling silent into deep prayer.

I read these and the other words I received over and over and over again. They are balm for my wound, precious ointment that has anointed my grief with divine compassion. The church literally blesses me in my sorrow, and I know myself to be blessed.  Very blessed indeed.