Pastors don't get to live normal lives. Called to serve, they often need to stay on task and work during the times when other people get to listen, rest, or grieve.

I wanted to share my emotional state as a grieving pastor. If you're a pastor, how do you grieve?

The average person isn't comfortable discussing or dealing with death. Pastors have to maintain a balance where they are able to handle things for their people but also remain soft in heart toward their people and their own emotions.

Last year we had a funeral for a dear man from my church who was a true fan of mine. I was able to visit and pray with him as the pandemic came on, and the funeral had to be small because of restrictions.

I did my best to livestream it from my laptop and allow for his son to speak to the small group (<10) of mourners who gathered. There were so many things going on, I didn't realize until a few weeks later that I hadn't really grieved, and it was wearing on me.

He was a close friend, even though he was thirty years older than me. We ordered the same sandwich at Jersey Mike's (Classic Club with bacon and extra pickles). He was a get-it-done kind of guy. My kids treated him like a local-grandpa, since our parents live a few hours away.

Just two weeks ago, my wife told me that she was was worried about one of the ladies in our church who had been ill. She'd stopped texting back, and she suggested I run to the house and check. I could tell she was worried, so when she said she'd go, I said no and went myself.

I rang the doorbell, glanced in through the small windows at the top of the door, and then went into the house through the unlocked back door. Sometime after teaching her last class for the day, she had closed her laptop, placed her hands on her lap, and slipped into eternity.

After trying to wake her, I left the house, called my wife, and then dialed 911, trying to hold back the emotion. My wife was calling other friends who'd been texting and wanting to go over and check. My phone started ringing like crazy. People started coming to the house.

The police who arrived were intimidated by her dogs. Friends gathered on the lawn were upset, asking questions, wanting to go inside, to help with the animals, wanting details. I was talking to the police and just wanted to be able to focus.

The funeral home people came. I told the police officers that my friend's sister wanted her phone, and they said they'd give it to me. When I went back inside after the funeral home people left, I dialed the phone and realized it must have been in her pocket.

The crowd had dissipated, I had helped removed the dogs from the house (they wouldn't leave while she was there) and get them to friends, and texted my wife that I was going to try to get the phone from the funeral home when the wave of grief hit.

I had held it together as long as I could, but the tears wouldn't obey. I walked in the back door and my wife and I sat at the kitchen table and cried together. 2020-21 were a blessing and a curse, and this was a heavy blow at the end of a long season.

I've been in various states of grief since that day. I watched Infinity War by myself one night and the finale was overwhelming. We had a memorial service for the family, and then another one for our local community members. God was good - everything was perfect.

I did my job, but I'm feeling empty right now, kind of like an empty tube of toothpaste. I dropped my son off to school and puttered around the church building. I'm writing this thread. I watched a movie last night with my wife and now I'm waiting for my spirit to fill back up.

Watch out for the grief cycle. It hits pastors and people - and you can't always be on emotional hold serving other people. You've got to let it out. I recommend admitting to people in your church community that you're having a hard time with a loss.

I posted this on Facebook: "A Christian can experience waves of grief, profound sadness, and enduring hope simultaneously. No need to sort out the emotions in a matter of hours or days. We're designed to be emotional, and emotions aren't rational."

I went off script at the memorial and said, "Death is terrible. We should just admit that this is a horrible thing. We're happy for our sister, but we're in shock and we're going to be grieving this for a while."

We said all the true and important gospel things, but it's important not to just move on. At every funeral I say, 'there's no replacing what's been lost, because a woman, created in the image of God, has died. She was unique, and special, and loved, and we'll carry this loss."

There are some pastors who don't do funerals, from what I've heard. I'm not sure I understand that at all. It kind of feels like a pastor saying, "I don't do sermons" or "I don't study the Bible." To me, this is a central part of the job.

People want the church when their kids are born, when they want to get married, and when someone dies. Pastors need to engage others when they ask the church for help. You can't engage everyone at the same emotional level, but you've got to engage.

And then there are the ones that wreck you emotionally. People said it was a good funeral message, but I struggled to write it. I kept changing it. I kept doing other things because I didn't want to feel sad anymore. So I'm trying to be kind to myself right now.

I'm repeating Romans 15:13 to myself a lot: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope."

Joy and peace in believing.

I was able to baptize someone yesterday. I preached a pretty good sermon, I think. Next week I'm out of the pulpit, so that's nice.

I'm grieving and I'm moving forward.
If you're a pastor, how do you grieve?

Also, I made this form years ago to help people plan and help their families. Maybe it's of use to you: https://www.dropbox.com/s/aqp29q6y5g356ty/My%20Preferences%20at%20the%20Time%20of%20Death%20-%20HBC%20%5BForms%5D.pdf?dl=0