A Prayer for Comfort in Grief

Watercolor painting of a farmhouse upstairs hallway with afternoon light on the floor and a closed door at the far end
The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
— Psalm 34:18

Grief is not a problem to be solved, and anyone who tries to fix it for us — with a timeline, or a lesson, or a bright side — means well but misses the point. The point is that someone we love is gone, and the world has a hole in it now, and no amount of talk will fill it. The only thing that helps, in the early going, is knowing we are not alone in it — that someone is near enough to sit with us in the dark and not try to turn the lights on before we're ready.

Lord, I am broken-hearted and I need you near.
I don't need answers right now. I don't need reasons. I just need to know you are here, in this room, in this hour, in this heavy, heavy dark.
Sit with me. Don't rush this. Don't explain it.
Just be close — closer than the grief, closer than the silence where their voice used to be.
And when the time comes to take the first step forward, show me where to put my foot. Not yet. But when it's time.
Amen.

I won't pretend to know what someone else's grief feels like — every loss cuts its own shape. But I've sat with enough of it, my own and other people's, to know this much: the Lord does not hurry the brokenhearted. He doesn't say get over it. He says I am near. And he is. That's the whole of it, and some days it's all that keeps the floor from falling out. He is near to the brokenhearted. Not near to the ones who've moved on. Near to the ones still in the thick of it.


This one is for the hard days — and the harder nights. Keep it as long as you need it. Ruby writes a short devotional every morning in the same spirit: Scripture, and a few plain words from someone who understands. You can subscribe — it's free, or stay a while and read more of her writing.