05/03/2026
Henri Nouwen (Dutch Catholic priest, professor, writer and theologian) wrote, “The great spiritual call of the Beloved Children of God is to pull their brokenness away from the shadow of the curse and put it under the light of the blessing.”
We all experience woundedness and brokenness in life: death, grief, material loss, marital discord, domestic violence, parenting challenges, abuse – these are all sources of our wounds and brokenness. Nobody escapes being wounded. What then shall we do with these emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual wounds?
The Trauma of Death
Grief from loss – the death of a loved one – is yet another source of trauma. The ripping away of one half of you, the person who made you whole, is profoundly traumatic. It is so much more than just sadness. It is almost as tangible as the phantom pains of an amputated limb. The TRAUMA OF DEATH leaves behind a darkness that is beyond description. For those who have not experienced it, it is pointless us trying to explain or you trying to understand. Just be present; wherever the grieving person is, that’s where you should stay. It is not your job to move her/him along in their journey but rather to love them in their woundedness and brokenness. That’s when they will move along in their journey. Don’t throw your psychology book at them and don’t throw the Bible at them; grief is not reasonable or rational. But it is valid. Many will get this wrong because we all want to “fix” situations and people. Not everything can be fixed. Sometimes, our brokenness barely allows us to hold things together.
As you heal, you will become a mighty beacon to others who have endured similar woundedness and brokenness. When you find yourself surrounded by people who reach out to you just to be there for you – you heal. When friends choose not to be prescriptive in their suggestions, but rather receptive in their attitude and compassionate in their disposition – you heal.
Henri Nouwen states, “When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”
This is when the most assuring words one can ever hear are reminders that you are loved and held together by a God who is near the broken-hearted.
Just knowing that somehow you are loved and the favor of God rests upon you will carry you through many a season of trauma. It is the constant that carries you through the many vicissitudes of trauma. As you relive your trauma in the conscious and subconscious, pray, No! Beg for a peace that is unassailable, unbreakable, and transcendent. It may come and go, but once you have tasted it even momentarily you will understand that you must fight to repeatedly inhabit that place of peace.