Bearing One Another’s Burdens

May 17, 2025 — Carol Brown

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” Romans 12:4a

I am currently walking with a dear friend through her recent widowhood. She lost her husband of thirty-nine years just eight months ago. His death was unexpected, unplanned, and left her and her children reeling with the shock of sudden grief. As I’ve talked with her, I’ve discovered remarkable similarities between spousal loss and child loss.

Questioning God, check.

Guilt and regret, check.

Brain fog, check.

Feeling overwhelmed, check.

Hurtful comments from others, check.

Being ignored by others, check.

Struggling with faith, check.

Fear for the future, check.

Longing for heaven, double check.

We in the child loss community believe that we have suffered the worst calamity imaginable, and indeed we have. But does that exempt us from reaching out to others who have lost something or someone other than a child, whom they never pictured life without? I don’t think it does.

In the sixth chapter of Galatians, the apostle Paul admonished believers to “carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” And what is that law? Jesus tells us in the Gospel of John. “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.”

When we voluntarily bear the burdens of another hurting soul, even while we ourselves are grieving, without comparing the depth of their loss to our own, we fulfill the law of Christ and show the world that we are His followers.

Of course, we must make room for our own sorrow, not neglecting the work required to keep us on the path to healing or the necessary self-care. We can’t pour from an empty pitcher, as the saying goes, and we must take care to guard our own sorrowing hearts. But as we continue the journey, our view must widen out at some point in order to see that there are people in deep pain all around us. We actually have an advantage in that we’ve experienced things that have helped us in our own journey and things that have not. We’ve been given a valuable, if unwelcome, education in how to comfort hurting folks and carry their burdens.

It shouldn’t matter the degree of the loss, only that it has caused pain in the heart of another. Perhaps it is the loss of a parent or grandparent, a sibling, a cherished friend, or even a beloved pet. It could be the loss of a marriage or other relationship , a skill or ability, or a career. As I’ve travelled down this road of child loss, I’ve discovered most people have something or someone they’re grieving. My responsibility to those God puts in my path, as far as it is possible for me to do so, is to carry them to the Father, and make myself available to lend as much comfort and encouragement as possible. That is what I think fulfilling the law of Christ means. We were not meant to live inside our own pain, but instead, use it to soften our hearts to notice the heavy burdens others are bearing.

I love these verses in Ecclesiastes. “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-11)

Who do you know who is stumbling beneath the heavy load of overwhelming circumstances? Is there someone in your circle of influence who desperately needs you to run to their defense and to be warmed by your understanding and concern? How might we bind ourselves together with the hurting so that neither of us will be broken beyond repair?

As believers in Christ, we are created for community. That is especially true for those going through hard times.

How will you begin to fulfill the law of Christ, and who do you know who needs “the comfort with which you have been comforted”?

To open your heart is to give your own sorrow meaning. What greater reward could there be for our obedience?