Even if we have done the work of forgiveness, when the dying coals of pain, bad memories, and negative experiences are fanned to life by some reminder from the past, it is not always our first response to douse the flames, especially at the holidays. Sometimes we had rather just cozy up to the fire, make some s’mores, and warm our indignation by the roaring fire of our hurt and self-justification.

When we grieve, the holidays can seem like a kaleidoscopic emotional blur. Our spirit spins. Deep within our being we feel the chaotic contradiction of sorrow and seasonal joy, sadness and holiday cheer, loneliness and festive gatherings.

When life as we know it has been brought to a standstill by the death of one we love, the future we once imagined, perhaps even relied upon as a certainty, is no more. Our hopes, our dreams, our inmost desire for fulness of life beyond the horizon of today are unalterably shaken. And though remnants of our ideal longings may survive the finality of death, the fragile ruins of the future we once envisioned become a commentary on our past.

On a rainy Tuesday afternoon in December, I attended the funeral of a woman whose husband I knew and wanted to support. He was an adoring, loving spouse, in every way a faithful servant who cared for his wife throughout her long decline from Alzheimer’s disease. The service was a fitting tribute to a joyful life well-lived in love and service to her family, her church, and others.

In our present society, we’re continuously confronted with acts of violence that are at once shocking and simply unimaginable. The picture of a desperate, heartbroken mother with the cross of Ash Wednesday still freshly signed on her forehead told the story this week of the shock, destruction, and despair that devastated the community of Parkland, Florida on a holy day of remembrance.

…not just any old work shoes, but hot pink sneakers with shiny silver stripes that peeked out from the bottom of her sensible khaki pants. This particular angel had bright yellow curly hair, the perfect complement to her sunny disposition. Her job was to arrange and maintain the Christmas floral arrangements in the large gothic dining room of an historic estate house open to the public. She was the “flower lady”, responsible for artfully brightening this moody space with its soaring cathedral ceilings through the vibrant beauty of fresh seasonal flowers.

We’re continuously confronted with acts of violence that are at once shocking and simply unimaginable. Often, we flounder for what it is we should be feeling. Sometimes we’re surprised by our delayed reaction when our emotions—anger, outrage, disbelief, contempt— finally bubble to the surface. Yet at the far reach of our bewilderment, we find our emotional identity with what’s happened. This is collateral grief, our most fundamental response to the pain and suffering of others, expressed as heartfelt compassion.

Beyond its accustomed use to designate a federation of states, a commonwealth is also defined as any group of persons united by some common interest. In the face of senseless violence, tragic death, and random injury, as occurred in recent weeks and days especially in London and Manchester, those of us who are helpless bystanders are most certainly part of a commonwealth.

Recovery best describes our spiritual and emotional healing from grief. Here are some things that to help in how to recover from the death of a loved one.

The journey of grief takes us inevitably through “the valley of the shadow of death” (Psalm 23:4 RSV). We emerge at last from the darkness of grief into the light of new life, our soul restored through the loving care of God’s infinite grace.

Reconciling our experience of loss and sorrow with the grace of our faith inevitably leads us slowly but surely to the other side of grief.

When the careful restoration of our life is at last complete, our grief becomes a precious part of the infrastructure of who we are.