Ministering to Bereaved Parents: Advice for Pastors

Being a pastor doesn’t mean you come out of seminary with answers to everything.

It doesn’t even mean you emerge equipped for very many of the situations and conversations thrust upon you once you enter ministry.

But I know a lot of folks expect you to be a pillar of strength, a fountain of wisdom, a well-spring of comfort. I’m sure you try to be all those things but it takes years to develop the experience needed to know what to say and do and what NOT to say and do in the most sensitive and painful moments humans face.

So when a thoughtful and inquisitive fellow bereaved parent asked the question below, I found myself REALLY considering the essential advice I’d pass along to a pastor about the unique and uniquely challenging ministry to those whose children have run ahead to Heaven.

It is most certainly NOT exhaustive, but hits the high points. It’s short, succinct and can go a long way toward promoting healing in shattered hearts.

I hope my pastor friends will read it and tuck it away in an easily accessible place. I promise you will need it one day.

I hope my fellow bereaved parents and others will pass it along to pastors they know.

❤ Melanie

This is the question: What advice would you give a pastor to serve, encourage, and walk with a grieving parent? What would you tell them not to do?

I would tell a pastor to:

*Listen, listen and listen some more– without correcting or judging. This is not a teachable moment. Take off the theologian’s coat and put on human flesh.

*Acknowledge the depth of their loss- not compare it or try to identify with it (unless you have also lost a child) and absolutely not minimize it.

*Don’t toss Bible verses– especially those intended to “bright side” their experience.

*Don’t stop checking in even if they stop going to church. If your ministry ends at the door of the building, you’ll lose lots of sheep.

*It will take longer- probably by years-than you think it should for them to return to some semblance of “normal”. Be patient.

*Ask, but don’t pressure, parents who once served (or are serving at the time of loss) if they want to continue serving. Some do, some find it impossible.

*Do not engage in gossip and speculation about “how they’re handling” their grief.

*Educate your congregation on the devastation of grief in general and child loss in particular. (See the story of Jacob-how deeply he grieved when he thought Joseph was dead, what a mess his family was…)

*When appropriate, make space in yearly celebrations or traditions for recognition of those who are mourning and who want to have their child (or other loved one) remembered.

*As time goes on, ask specific questions (How is your grief today? What do you find to be a struggle right now? Could you share something about _____, I love to hear about him/her?) and then listen some more.

If you know them well, you will have many more opportunities to come alongside as a compassionate companion in their grief.

If you don’t know them well or you have a very large congregation, you can still use these general guidelines but also engage the help of someone who does know them and who may be better suited to companion them (with your help and support).


So many bereaved parents struggle with church and with their faith.

Each family and situation will be different.

Reaching out in a timely, encouraging, and understanding way helps them hold onto hope.

Grief Journey: Ten Ways to Survive Hard Grief Days

One of the most devastating aspects of child loss is the overwhelming feeling that NOTHING makes sense anymore and that I have absolutely NO control.

Choosing helpful habits and actions gives me a way to regain dominion over a tiny corner of my world.

And that little bit of action strengthens my spirit and helps my heart hold on.

❤ Melanie

My hardest grief season begins in November and runs to the end of May.  Thanksgiving through Dominic’s birthday on (or near) Memorial Day are days full of triggers, memories and stark reminders that one of us is missing.

If I could fall asleep November first and wake up in June I’d do it.

But I can’t so I have to employ all the tricks I’ve learned in the over eight years since Dominic ran ahead to heaven to survive those particularly challenging months.

Here are ten ways I survive hard grief days

Read the rest here: Taking Care: Ten Ways to Survive Hard Grief Days

Grief Journey: Please Be Patient With Me

I wrote this a few years ago in response to post after post across social media of (mostly!) moms lamenting the fact their son or daughter would soon be moving away or off to college. 

I get it!  

When you are used to having your kid around it’s tough when he or she leaves the nest.  

But there is a vast difference in having to work a little harder to stay in contact or arrange visits and never being able to speak to your child again. 

It’s an adjustment to compare calendars to find a day your family can celebrate together but it’s heartbreaking to know that one chair will always be empty at every family gathering.  

Read the rest here:  Please Be Patient With Me

Grief Journey: Wisdom From C.S. Lewis

I’m currently leading an online book study of A GRIEF OBSERVED and was reminded, once again, of how C.S. Lewis held a lantern in the dark for my heart.

I’m so grateful for his absolute honesty and bravery in revealing the angst, questions and pain of great loss.

I continue to quote him as proof that it’s not “just me”. Even a titan of the faith, a man who gave an exquisite apology of Christianity, was as vulnerable as the next person to doubt.

If you haven’t read it, please do. It’s short though not an easy read. I believe you will be thankful you did.

❤ Melanie

I read A GRIEF OBSERVED in my 30’s as another in a long list of “Books You Should Read”.  I gleaned a bit here or there that I thought might be of use later on.

But when Dominic ran ahead to heaven, it was the first book on grief I bought for myself and I read it like a starving man set down to a full table.  

This passage, in particular, was helpful in understanding how my absolute trust in the FACT of ultimate redemption of my pain and sorrow did absolutely NOTHING to take away the pain and sorrow-it only made it bearable.

If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which it was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to “glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her. But not to her motherhood. The specifically maternal happiness must be written off. Never, in any place or time, will she have her son on her knees, or bathe him, or tell him a story, or plan for his future, or see her grandchild.

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Read the rest here: Wisdom From C.S. Lewis

Grief Journey: Yep. Still Here.

I’m sharing this post again because it is relevant to some choices I am currently pondering.

If you’ve joined me in this space for very long, you will know that I have never been inclined toward making the blog a commercial interest and I’m still not tempted to do so.

The idea of trying to be an “influencer” or to be under pressure to produce content sounds absolutely awful and Dominic would absolutely HATE it.

My story is not for sale.

That said, I am still here, still writing (not as much as in years past) and still pursuing ways to share my story, support bereaved parents and to educate the general public on what grief is and how it impacts a heart forever.

❤ Melanie

Recently I was challenged by someone close to me to examine the impact on my heart of spending so much time in community with those whose loss was fresher and more raw than my own

They were being neither judgmental nor argumentative.

They were coming from a genuine place of concern, grace and love.

So I took the opportunity to take a step back and reevaluate whether or not I need to continue writing in this space, spend time reading and responding to posts in bereaved parents’ groups and ruminating on how grief has changed over time (now seven plus years!).

It was an excellent exercise.

Read the rest here: Challenge Accepted: Why Am I Still Here?

Grief Journey: Resisting Fear, Embracing Love

In my grief and sorrow it is tempting to dig a moat, draw up the bridge to my heart and wait out life like I am under siege.

But that would be wasting this pain and I won’t do that.

I won’t dishonor Dominic and dishonor Jesus by refusing to love.

Read the rest here: Resisting Fear, Embracing Love

Grief Journey: Broken Vessel, Mighty God

A few years ago I was asked by a precious fellow bereaved mama to write a guest post for a new and exciting ministry her family is launching in honor of their son, Rhett.

It was an interesting and challenging assignment to create a single entry that might give enough background to make my voice an authentic source of hope based on shared experience.

I spent over a week working it out but settled on what you have below: The essence of my story is I am a broken, fragile vessel whom God chooses to use to share His light, life and hope in a world full of searching hearts.

Child loss is MY cross. Yours may be something else.

But our great and faithful Lord can and will use us, if we let Him.

❤ Melanie

“But this beautiful treasure is contained in us—cracked pots made of earth and clay—so that the transcendent character of this power will be clearly seen as coming from God and not from us. We are cracked and chipped from our afflictions on all sides, but we are not crushed by them. We are bewildered at times, but we do not give in to despair. We are persecuted, but we have not been abandoned. We have been knocked down, but we are not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our bodies the reality of the brutal death and suffering of Jesus. As a result, His resurrection life rises and reveals its wondrous power in our bodies as well. “

~2 Corinthians 4:7-10 VOICE

As a young mother of four stairstep children I copied out these verses and taped them to my bathroom mirror for encouragement.

Read the rest here: Fragile Vessel, Mighty God

Grief Journey: A Child is MORE Than Their Addiction

We talk about a lot of things as if they didn’t reflect a real person and a real life.  

Addiction is one of them.  And let me just tell you, every single number is a life and behind every single life is a family.  

Statistics are easy to toss around until one of those numbers represents YOUR child.

My son was not an addict.  He was a health nut.  But he liked his motorcycle and never saw the contradiction between spending hours at the gym then putting that beautiful body on a fast moving, unprotected engine-on-wheels.  A helmet was not enough to save him that night.  

Addicts don’t start out wanting the life so many of them end up living.  

Read the rest here: Child Loss by Addiction

Grief Journey: Jelly Jars, Pickles and Tears

I first shared this seven years ago so it may shock some folks that while I have finally tossed most of the things in my fridge that once belonged to Dominic, I’ve got a giant bottle of hot sauce I’m still using.

Every time I add spicy flavor to chili I think of him.

I’m not looking forward to the day it runs out because it will be one more link dissolved between the living son I knew in the flesh and the memories I have to settle for now.❤

My dad lives in another state so I call each morning just to check in and say hello.

We usually chat about what we have planned for the day, what we did the day before and share any important family updates.

Yesterday my dad mentioned that he had been to the grocery store, came home and when putting away the food he bought decided to clean out his refrigerator.  He joked that he found some things from years ago tucked in the back where they’d been forgotten.

I laughed and said, “Yeah-I did that sometime last summer.”

And then my heart froze as I remembered another fridge I cleaned out three years ago.

I went on to say, “I threw out all the old stuff except what I took out of Dom’s fridge when we cleaned his apartment.”

And then the tears broke loose.

Read the rest here: Jelly Jars, Pickles and Tears

Grief Journey: You Can Only Hold On To What You Refuse to Let Go Of

I wrote this post after hearing a radio interview in which the guest said, “You can only hold onto what you refuse to let go of” in reference to clinging to what was truly important in life.

It struck a chord deep in my heart because as the weeks turn to months and then to years, I’m realizing I must hold onto every bit of Dominic that I can.

Because no matter how much I wish it were different, time has a way of washing our minds clean of things we don’t cling to with both hands.

Those hours before I planted one last kiss on my son’s forehead, I held his hand.  

I nodded at the people filing past to pay their respects with my arm tucked behind me, desperate to cling to my child.

Read the rest here:  You Can Only Hold On To What You Refuse to Let Go Of