Freely Given, Freely Received: Extending Grace

Early on in my grief, I did not extend much grace when people would make insensitive comments after the death of my son. To be honest, most of the people had no idea their comments were insensitive. 

A case in point: one day at the grocery store after the loss of my son, I was checking out with my two girls while I was very pregnant. The girl scanning my groceries looked at my large belly and my two little girls and asked if I was hoping for a boy. I saw my girls look at me, and I wanted to protect them and make sure they didn’t feel undervalued because of their gender. I replied, “I had a son, and he died.” 

Poor grocery store checker. She was the innocent target of my grief. My sorrow falsely led me to believe that my comment was justified. She was speechless. I should’ve been. 

There were other times early on in my grief when I didn’t extend much grace to my own husband. I didn’t allow him to grieve differently than me, and often got upset with him for not sharing my exact feelings and emotions. Time and maturity helped me see that he did grieve the loss of our son; he just did it differently. I learned to extend grace to him in those moments. 

One day, after another insensitive comment, I got a bit of a revelation. It seems obvious now. What I realized was the person didn’t understand. How could she understand? She had never buried a child. 

This revelation took me a step closer to grace. When people make comments that seem insensitive or even downright mean, and they haven’t experienced loss like I have, would I wish my pain and grief on them? No!

I turned the narrative around and realized the only way for another person to really empathize with my pain and sorrow was for them to have experienced the depth of loss I did. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. I began to be grateful people could be so clueless with their comments because that meant they didn’t know my sorrow. I would never want anyone to experience the grief of losing a child. 

Grace was easier to lavish on people I previously would have been upset with when this revelation sunk in. I could take the comments if it meant the commenter didn’t have to walk down a pathway of grief. Jesus was willing to lay down His life and die on the cross for me when I was undeserving of His grace. How could I withhold grace from someone who hadn’t walked the path I walked? 

He is so rich in kindness and grace that He purchased our freedom with the blood of His Son and forgave our sins. Ephesians 1:7

Grace was easier to extend when I realized people’s comments weren’t meant to be insensitive, mean, or rude, but instead they were most likely coming from a place of just not knowing or understanding. I could forgive the comments and make allowances for how their comments might offend or hurt me. I could be truly grateful they didn’t know or understand. 

Make allowances for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Colossians 3:13 (NLT)

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Shelly D. Templin is an author, speaker and blogger that shares a message of hope—with humor. She has three daughters, a son-in-law, and a granddaughter. Shelly lives in Texas with her husband, Jack, of 29 years and their two dogs.

Are you a writer who would like to join the blog team? Learn more and apply here.

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Shelly D. Templin is an author, speaker and blogger that shares a message of hope—with humor. She has three daughters, a son-in-law, and a granddaughter. Shelly lives in Texas with her husband, Jack, of 29 years and their two dogs.

Are you a writer who would like to join the blog team? Learn more and apply here.

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