Proverbs 25.20
“Whoever sings songs to a heavy heart is like one who takes off a garment on a cold day, and like vinegar on soda.”
The proverb talks about the effects of trying to be happy in the midst of trouble. It makes things worse to sing a happy song when someone is down. Removing a garment certainly does not help warm a cold person. Vinegar also reacts violently when mixed with soda (mixing an acid with an alkali). Insensitive happiness just aggravates a troubled heart.
Likewise, a grieving person with a heavy heart needs to grieve and mourn, and they have no use for someone trying to cheer them up by singing songs to them. As stated in Romans 12:15: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.” Or, in 1 Corinthians 12:26: “If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it….” There is, indeed, “…a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…” (Ecclesiastes 3:4).
So, instead of singing songs and trying to cheer them up, wisdom says to comfort those with a heavy heart by listening with compassion and patience, letting the grieving express their feelings, and not trying to tell them how to feel. Much as we would like, we can’t take away their emotional pains or sadness. We just need to be there for them.
Each person differs to some degree in how they process a loss or endure some dire circumstance. We can simply ask them what we can do to be there for them and give support as they need it during a time of grief. Simply listening as they express their grief or performing some simple daily task they just cannot handle at the time are probably the best things we can do to help them get through the hardship and emotional pain they are suffering. That will be far more useful than singing songs to try and cheer them up.
Recently I received a phone call from a young father who has been following Focus 3 on social media, and is a regular listener to our podcast. Although I had never met him, I was told that he is very familiar with E+R=O. He wanted to talk and get some advice about a heartbreaking situation he was facing. His wife had just died after a 7 year battle with cancer, leaving him with three boys, ages 12, 9, and 6.
I gave him very little advice. I simply asked him how he was doing and what he was feeling, and then I listened. I asked how the boys were responding, and I listened. We spent much of the call simply crying together.
In the end, he thanked me profusely for taking the time to talk with him, and said that the call had been very helpful. I was able to offer a few words of encouragement as we wrapped up, but mostly I just listened. That was what he needed.
