Being Honest, No Matter How Much it Hurts

My young children asked many questions in the days and weeks following their mother's death. Actually, they asked some of the same questions over and over.

-"Where is Mommy?"
-"Why did she go?"
-"When is she coming back?"
-"Can I go to see her?"
-"Can we talk to her?"
-"Where is heaven?"
-"Will Jesus send her back?"
-"Will you go to heaven too and never come back?"

These questions hurt to hear, and hurt even more to answer. It was challenging to deal with their sincere questions using language and concepts a preschooler could understand.

From the time my children were born I had determined I would always tell them the truth. I never played games about Santa Claus or other mythical characters. I wanted my children always to know that we as their parents would tell them the truth, or we would honestly let them know that we could not answer a particular question if they inquired about something we could not or should not tell them.

So after my wife died I fumbled through trying to answer their painfully penetrating questions. They deserved honest answers, but how can a three-year-old understand abstract concepts like "death" and "heaven"?

As hard as it was, I answered every question as simply as I could, using brief but honest answers.

-"Mommy is with Jesus in heaven."
-"Mommy had too many boo-boos from the car accident."
-"Mommy is not coming back. She loves you very much, but when someone goes to heaven, they stay there forever."
-"One day you can go see her, but I think it will be years and years from now."
-"Maybe we can pray to God and ask Him to give her a message."
-"I'm not really sure where heaven is, but I know from the Bible it is a wonderful place, full of joy. Mommy is happier than she has ever been. She doesn't have any more boo-boos. The best part about heaven is that Jesus is there."
-"No, Jesus will not send Mommy back. I know Mommy loves you and Jesus loves you, and I know Jesus will watch over us always."
-"One day I will go to heaven too, but I think that will be a long, long time from now, after you're all grown up and have children of your own."


I didn't want to promise that something wouldn't happen to me (I cannot control that), but I wanted to allay their fears that I might die too. I didn't want them to confuse praying to God with talking to Mommy, so we prayed to God and asked Him to say "Hi" to Mommy. I knew they couldn't visualize heaven well (that's hard enough for adults), but I wanted them to know it is a wonderful place where Mommy is full of joy, and that one day we would be reunited in heaven.

When I answered my kids' questions, I let them see my own tears of grief. We held each other tightly and cried together over how much we missed Mommy.

Even though it is hard, please answer the questions your children ask with full honesty, no matter how much it hurts. If you don't know some of the answers to your children's questions, please take time to ask a pastor or a Christian counselor for some helpful answers. Read the Bible to get good information about heaven. Read some good books to help clarify your own thoughts (see the "Recommended Resources" page on this blog).

And remember the Lord cares deeply for you and your children. He will help you and them grow in your understanding and your faith as you seek Him together.

That Dreaded Question

"How are you doing?"

In our culture, people frequently ask this question as an all-purpose greeting, yet they seldom expect to hear more than a one- or two-word answer (if anything). Sometimes people ask this question with a sincere desire to hear more, and this is much better.

Personally, I've never really liked the question, especially when it's asked in a half-hearted manner. When my wife died, I began to dread this question much more. Yet many people I know and love asked, and sincerely wondered, how I was doing as I grieved the loss of my wife. Many e-mails and conversations included this question. To be honest, it always flustered me. Each time someone asked how I was doing, my mind swirled with thoughts like these:

• Does this person have time and patience to hear how I'm really doing?
• How close of a friend is this person, and how much am I comfortable sharing?
• Should I just tell a lie and say I'm fine when I really don't feel fine?
• If I answer "hurting" or "falling apart," is this person able to handle that?

Early in my grief process, I had trouble answering that dreaded question. I never doubted the love and concern shown by my good friends - and I appreciated their care very much. But I was unsure about how much I could or should share with them in those moments.

I finally found a way to answer briefly, truthfully, and appropriately. I could honestly answer, "I'm doing okay," or something similar, knowing that I was resting in the Lord's care, and that because of His grace and strength I was truly okay.

This brief answer enabled me to respond to the common greeting without emotionally falling apart or sharing far more than the person was ready to hear. Many of my friends and acquaintances were satisfied with such a brief answer. Others paused to show they were willing to hear more if I wanted to share, and this began many wonderful conversations during which my friends encouraged me a great deal.

If you're grieving, you may want to find a similar way to answer questions. Everyone who asks is probably well-intentioned, but maybe only a few are truly able to handle your grief-filled answers and gut-level honesty. You will want to choose wisely how and to whom you give more detailed responses.

And remember, because of God's sovereignty and goodness, you really are "fine." God is near to the brokenhearted (see Psalm 34:18). Even on the days when you lack peace and hope, you can know you're okay in His hands.