The death of a family member or close relative is one of the most painful human experiences, leaving behind grief, unanswered questions, and a profound emptiness. Yet, for many, these moments of sorrow become a powerful turning point—an invitation to seek something beyond the pain. We find that loss, when viewed through the lens of Scripture and faith, can lead us into a deeper relationship with God.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. (Ps. 34:18, NIV)
This verse reminds us that God’s nearness is not found in the absence of suffering, but within it. The Psalmist assures us that hardship is not evidence of divine abandonment. On the contrary, it becomes the very place where God meets us most intimately. In our brokenness and pain, we discover a God who does not remain distant but draws close to save, comfort, and transform (Craigie, 1983; Weiser, 1962).
Furthermore, death is always difficult. It brings sorrow, longing, and many times confusion. Even Jesus wept at the death of Lazarus (Jn. 11:35). Our faith does not deny the pain of loss. But it does offer us a greater truth—that our suffering is not wasted. In Christ, death becomes not an end but a doorway to eternal life. For those who die in the Lord, death is a homecoming. And for those left behind, it becomes an invitation to trust, to hope, and to draw closer to the One who has conquered death.
As one reflection puts it: “When we lose a loved one in the Lord, we grieve, but not as those without hope. Our tears may flow, but they glisten with the promise of reunion and resurrection” (cf. 1 Thess. 4:13–14; Alewine, 2024).
During one of my Clinical Pastoral Education encounters, I met Ryan (name changed for privacy), a young man who shared his painful life story. He grew up without a mother; she left the family when he was still in first grade. His father, despite living in poverty, raised them alone by collecting and selling scrap materials. He told Ryan and his siblings that all he ever wanted was for them to finish school. Even in his exhaustion, and even when he turned to alcohol to cope with his sorrow, he remained present and committed to their survival.
Eventually, Ryan’s father became seriously ill. He recalled how his father whispered that he could no longer bear the pain. Ryan prayed, begging God not to take his father just yet—he wanted him to witness his graduation. But a few days later, on August 14, 2017, his father passed away. It was the most painful day of his life.
Not long after, the grandmother who had stepped in to care for them also became gravely ill. She, too, passed away. The back-to-back losses deeply wounded Ryan. He cried out to God, searching for answers. And while the answers didn’t come in the way he expected, he began to feel God’s presence in the silence—not through immediate relief, but through quiet strength and assurance. It was in those moments of deep grief that he recognized God’s comforting presence more than ever.
These experiences, shared during our pastoral conversation, revealed a profound truth: the death of loved ones, while deeply painful, can become a sacred encounter with God. As Ryan spoke, it became clear that in the absence of human comfort, he had begun to cling to the divine—to a hope that suffering could not extinguish.
Why must suffering be the path to knowing God? Because suffering humbles us. It breaks the illusion that we are in control. It opens our hearts to grace and reminds us that only in God can we find true peace. We come to realize that when our hearts are shattered, God draws near. The pain we endure becomes the very soil in which faith can grow (Jones, 2017).
Death is a painful part of life, but it can also be a sacred one. For the Christian, death is not merely an ending—it is an invitation to remember that we are pilgrims, passing through this world on the way to eternal life. The loss of a loved one often opens our eyes to what truly matters.
Let us remember that “death” can also stand for D.E.A.T.H.—Deep Encounter and Thanksgiving with Him. As painful as grief may be, it leads us to gratitude—for the life of our loved one, for the gift of memories, and most of all, for the God who promises resurrection.
In the end, it is in our suffering that we often meet God most intimately. And so we say, with hope in our hearts: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted” (Ps. 34:18, NIV).
Photo by josue rosales on Unsplash
