W hen a person begins grief counseling through a hospice agency, their bereavement counselor will complete a spiritual assessment. I learned quickly that clients were thrown by this initial step in the first session, so I developed a preemptory lead-in to the assessment to help put them at ease; it went something like this: “Regardless of what a person does or does not believe, it is natural to consider or evaluate those beliefs when you experience a significant death. Simply, we want to know if you’re content with what’s happening for you spiritually and, if you’re not, if you have the tools to get there.”
Some of the most fruitful conversations I’ve ever had resulted from that introduction. What I never anticipated, though, was the volume of conversations with believers about giving themselves permission to assess their own spiritual contentment.
Related: How to care for people in the wake of major and irreversible loss
Grief upends everything and just as grievers need to take stock of their thoughts, emotions, and actions while grieving, grievers truly do also need to take stock of their spiritual health. In my explorations with client’s avoidance of this work, I found that a primary reason people avoided it was because when they faced the truth of where they were in the moment, the reality of their level of contentment with God at that moment in their grief, they didn’t know what to do with it. Why? Because they feared that to be discontent with God was the same as betraying God or stepping away from their faith.
What I have come to believe is that sometimes spiritual contentment in grief includes a period of disconnect. In other words, in the height of your grief, you might be most spiritually content to disconnect from God. That might be what feels right because you don’t have the words to say, you don’t want to say the words that come to mind, or you are just too angry or betrayed to face God. All of that is okay.
There are moments in life when it is completely normal and acceptable to stop talking to God, even when you know it won’t be permanent. Here’s why:
1. It’s honest. Rather than feigning a relationship with God in order to meet the expectations of others, it’s healthier to embrace where you are in your process. Don’t hide it from God or anyone else.
2. It leaves room for change. In these times of silence, you can name both where you are and where you want to be. You can trust that when you are ready to start working things through with God, God will be there.
3. It’s real. God does not desire an approach from us that is so formal it becomes false. God has drawn us into a covenanted, direct, intimate relationship that invites transparency, and because of that, you can know that God isn’t going anywhere. Be assured a “time-out” will not sever the relationship.
4. It’s personal. Being honest with yourself about these moments is not an expectation or invitation for others to do as you do. You get to walk your own road because you are the only one who had your relationship with the person who died and the only one who has your relationship with God. You can trust your intuition to lead you through the phases you need as you need them; you don’t need anyone else’s permission or direction.
Related: Lament toolkit: understanding and practicing biblical lament
In short, no one—not your pastor or elder, not the congregant who sits next to you every week, not your neighbor, not your co-worker—can define your spiritual contentment. If contentment for you includes a silent pause, empower yourself to own it and to trust the experience. Disconnected yet contented is not a commonly discussed spiritual state of grief, yet I assure you the popularity of its discussion is not reflective of the reality.
Still, if the idea of a pause on connection with God might be too difficult to consider, the fact remains that taking one’s own spiritual assessment throughout the course of grief is important. To do so, begin by describing your relationship with God as it is in this moment. Then, reflect on that with questions related to contentment. If you are where you want to be, how can you maintain it? If you want a change, what do you need to affect that change?
Grief is an inescapable, inevitable reality of life and faith is a crucial element of the healing process. To be clear, though, faith is meant to assist us through the process of facing, naming, processing, and releasing, not avoiding or denying. Allow hope to sustain you through the depths of grief to and into a return to living.
Related: Bible study session on Naomi: resilient hope in a world of grief
Adapted with permission from Navigating the Waves of Grief: Healing Prompts and Reflections to Move You Forward, copyright 2025 by Kate J. Meyer (Lake Drive Books).
Rev. Kate J. Meyer
Kate J. Meyer, MDiv, LPC, is an ordained minister and licensed professional counselor who has worked in both private practice and hospice care. She is passionate about bringing grief into the light so that all grievers know how to move forward in a healthy, life-giving manner. Kate is the author of Navigating the Waves of Grief, Faith Doesn’t Erase Grief, and The Red Couch and The Yellow Dress, two novels about past mistakes and a challenge to overcome them. She is a dog mom living with her husband in Western Michigan.
