Giving Thanks Amid Grief

Food (or the lack of it) has been on a lot of people’s minds this month, ever since Uncle Sam announced the suspension of SNAP benefits for low-income citizens on Nov. 1.

Before Congress finally voted last week to (temporarily) end the government shutdown, states had to stand in the gap. West Virginia’s governor announced our state would provide up to $13 million of assistance to two major food banks in the interim.

In response to his call for help, my wife and I decided to make a special donation to the food bank in our city.

And while I know people who were personally affected by the kerfuffle, I recently learned of a situation even more dire than food insecurity.

At our church’s food pantry, which is open twice a month, my wife and I circulate in the sanctuary to take prayer requests from those waiting for their number to be called.

A month ago, a volunteer at the intake desk asked if I had talked to one visitor wearing a hooded sweatshirt. When I shook my head, he said, “His wife has been having seizures.”

Working my way to the front of the auditorium, I tapped on the man’s shoulder and told him I heard his wife had been having seizures. He gestured to another section where we could talk privately.

Then he told me the full story. His wife had started having seizures a month or two earlier, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Some undiagnosed ailment had caused her to lose a significant amount of weight over a longer period of time.

Married for 20 years, the couple had three children, including two teenage daughters. If the prospect of seeing his children without a mother soon wasn’t bad enough, he had been diagnosed with a form of cancer.

Giving Thanks

The man related his story in halting sentences, punctuated by frequent sobbing, gasps for air, and a statement about grim reality: his wife was literally wasting away.

“She’s one of the best mothers around,” he said through tears. “We just bought our house, our dream home, and now it’s falling apart. No way is this fair.”

After I jotted down his first name and some notes about his request, I asked if he would like me to pray for him right then.

Grabbing my hand, he choked out: “Please.”

In such situations, the emptiness of words becomes apparent. What could I say to a man looking at losing his spouse—and maybe his own life? All while thinking of the prospect of three children left as orphans?

Not much. When I prayed, I asked God to send His Son into their lives to offer them comfort and give them His peace.

As I spoke, he gripped my hand so hard it felt like I had shoved it into a vise clamp.

Sensitivity to Struggles

I promised we would pray for him and his family in the days to come.

What I didn’t say was, “Have a nice day.” That would have been akin to the insensitivity Proverb describes: “As he who takes away a garment in cold weather, and as vinegar on soda, so is he who sings songs to a heavy heart” (Proverbs 25:20 MEV).

Next week, millions of Americans will gather around dinner tables to feast on turkey and the trimmings.

When we do, I will remember that couple who don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I can imagine them struggling to offer any kind of thanks. What about you?