Not all grievers get a casserole.
Here in the South, we show up with food and tissues when a friend is grieving a death. We rally when there’s a cancer diagnosis, covering each update with prayer. We don’t always get it right, but we have well-established ways of recognizing the pain in these circumstances.
But no one shows up with lasagna when you’re grieving someone who’s still alive. There’s no online prayer group when you’re grieving a story that’s not yours to share. No one stops by with tissues when your child has hidden disabilities or it’s one more month with no pink lines or you’re watching the daily decline of an older parent.
Some of the most gut-wrenching grief comes from invisible loss.
Luke 8:40–56 tells the story of Jairus, the synagogue leader who fell at Jesus’s feet in front of an enormous crowd, begging Jesus to heal his dying daughter. Jairus was a prominent man, publicly grieving, who openly shared his need out loud. He was surrounded by servants, neighbors, and companions, all praying and offering help at home.
But in that same crowd was an unnamed woman, privately grieving, who didn’t dare share her need out loud.
For 12 years, she’d suffered a chronic flow of blood, spending everything she had on one doctor after another, only to get worse. Her bleeding made her unclean under Jewish law, so she’d lived as an outcast from family and community. Telling anyone about her suffering would have prevented her from even seeking Jesus that day.
Unlike Jairus, she didn’t publicly fall at Jesus’s feet. Instead, she came up behind Him, reached through the crowd, and discreetly brushed her fingers against the fringes of Jesus’s prayer shawl.
Just like that, she was healed as God gave her the miracle she’d been longing for.
Jesus could have let her slip back into the crowd, unnoticed. But our pain is never unnoticed by God.
Jesus stopped, turned, and asked, “Who touched me?” He wasn’t seeking an answer—He knew who’d touched Him. He was seeking this woman.
Jesus saw her when nobody else did. He knew precisely why she suffered and for how long she’d suffered. Neither she nor her pain were invisible to Him. Whether anyone else sees your pain or shows up in your suffering, Jesus does.
Our pain is never hidden from God. Our stories are never too tangled or too embarrassing; they’re never too much or too hard for Him. While no one around us may understand our circumstances, God does.
Not all grief gets a casserole in our communities. But all grief matters to God.
Jesus came to bind every wound. We can reach out to Him boldly, knowing He sees it all. And He cares.
Here are some verses to meditate upon in your time of grief (NLT):
“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” (Psalm 34:18)
“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” (Psalm 56:8)
“He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.” (Psalm 147:3)
“God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4)
“Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.” (1 Peter 5:7)
LISA APPELO is a speaker, writer, and Bible teacher who inspires others to deepen their faith in grief and find hope in the hard. Formerly a litigating attorney, her days are now filled with parenting seven children, ministering, writing, speaking, and running enough to justify lots of dark chocolate. Find encouragement for faith, grief, and hope at LisaAppelo.com.