“I was at the graveside weeping with a family over the casket of a loved one. He was a joyful, funny, loving person that was willing to help anyone. He was deeply loved by his friends, family and co-workers. People came from long-distances to say good-bye.
His death was sudden! He collapsed at work with a cardiac attack. One young employee was with him. She desperately tried to save his life. Through tears she gave her dear friend CPR. It was an awful experience that ultimately resulted in his death.
My mind reflected back to the second week of January in 1978. I was a second semester freshman in college. I wasn’t interested in my classes. My thoughts were on girls, skateboards, rock-climbing and partying my life away. My college roommate, Dave, told me that he had the flu. He asked if I could help him back to our dorm room. I helped my sick friend to the top bunk in our tiny room. I turned off the lights and gave him something to vomit into.
I thought I was doing the right things! Little did I know, but as Dave moaned and fell into a silent deep sleep, he wasn’t actually sleeping. He had died from a heart attack. Another guy entered the room and turned on the lights to ask me a question. He asked me what was wrong with Dave. I looked up to see that my friend’s skin color was blueish! I jumped onto the bed and pulled him to the floor and desperately started CPR. I was weeping! My mind was panicked, trying to remember the right steps to save Dave’s life. The other guy went for help.
Soon the firemen arrived and took over the emergency situation. I attended Dave’s funeral filled with shame and guilt. Dave and I had attended CPR classes together. We had worked together as lifeguards at a children’s camp. I thought, “If only I had called for help earlier!” “Why did I think it was the flu?” “Why did I panic?” “If only I had done CPR right!” A million shameful thoughts entered my young mind. I carried the responsibility of Dave’s death with me for years. It was a soul-crushing weight.
43 years later I stood at a graveside with a weeping young lady and I told her my story. We were bonded by a trauma decades apart.
One good outcome from my guilt was that I repented of myself-absorbed lifestyle. I told God that I was willing to do anything that he asked. A few weeks later I began my life-long service to God as a youth leader in a Spanish speaking church in downtown Grand Rapids. I have had a deep concern for the grieving and heartbroken ever since that winter day.
43 years later I stood at a graveside with a weeping young lady and I told her my story. We were bonded by a trauma decades apart. I can close my eyes and go back in time to that dorm room right now! We prayed together. I pray that she doesn’t experience the bitter guilt that I have lived with. And yet in that desperate moment I was given a lasting gift of transformation. I often pray, “Please, God, don’t waste my pain.” Thank you, God, for answering that prayer.
Dave’s death led me on a quest to study grief. I was pushed by sorrow and shame to become a hospital chaplain, and later sought a Master’s in Ministry with a grief counseling project. As a young hospital chaplain, I observed every kind of local pastor, priest and church elder in action as they responded to congregational sorrow and tragedy. Some responses were gentle, loving and tearful, others were judgmental and blunt. I often felt embarrassed because of the misguided counsel and thoughtless words of my fellow clergy.
As a care pastor, chaplain and hospice spiritual care giver, I have often been in homes, hospice houses and hospital rooms as dearly loved ones were dying. I have wept over friends. I have wept with my family. I never claimed to be like Jesus because I am often self-centered and sinful. However, in Isaiah 53 the Messiah is described as a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. I understand this Jesus!
When I did my master’s project for my MA in ministry with grief counseling emphasis, I was given this criticism of my master’s project: “Tim, we agree with you, but you have not tried to prove anything that you wrote. You are 100% intuitive but not the least bit scientific.”
I have not changed. These are eleven suggestions gathered from my life experiences:
