introducing a (hopefully) helpful guide on how to walk someone through grief and/or mental illness (please note: this is simply my opinion based on years of walking through it myself, and walking others through it, too.)

first, the don'ts:

don't say "call me if you need anything". while the person who is depressed or grieving may pick up the phone to make a call once in a while, this is highly unlikely. the one in deep pain (especially in regards to grief) shouldn't be in charge of reaching out. pick up the phone. if they want to talk, they'll answer, and if they don't, they know you care.

don't expect a response right away (and sometimes, ever). i'm weird in the sense that i will (eventually) reply to every single message i receive, but not everyone has the energy to. either way, the person you send texts/emails/mail to reads all of them, and appreciates your sentiment. being thought about is most helpful.

grief: don't say things like "God must have wanted another angel" or "she is with Jesus in heaven now". while the latter may be true, and comforting at times, the person grieving knows this, and would rather their mother/husband/child be with them now. selfishly, eternity (or whatever) can wait. it's eternity.

depression: don't say things like "snap out of it" or "you need to pray more". both are inaccurate and often harmful. snapping out of it isn't an option (don't you think we would if we could?), and chances are, they are praying (if they in fact, pray.)

and lastly, check in when you can. grief exceeds the funeral (in fact, this is when they'll need you the most), mental illness is a process, and checking in when you can is key. (disclaimer: you can't do all the 'fighting' for your friends, either. they, too, need to put in the work, but there are times when we need to carry each other and help one another heal and succeed. know the difference.)

secondly, the do's:

let the wounded lead. ask questions. see where they're at. don't assume that they want to talk. they may just need a break from thinking or an excuse to leave their room.

example: my friend adriana was the perfect person to greet me at the airport the day after my mom passed away. she hugged me, asked me how i was in that moment, and then asked me what i felt like doing. in that particular moment, i felt like being normal. we went out for lunch and caught up on life, hung out with her dog, watched suits [staring at harvey spector is healing], and then when i needed to, i processed what happened the morning before and cried. she didn't assume how i was feeling and act accordingly; she asked me how i was feeling, and let me lead.

enter into their pain. we tend to distance ourselves from our loved one's pain because we feel uncomfortable, and/or avoid the elephant in the room because we feel awkward. but here's the thing (and i have to remind myself of this when the tables are turned) - we're called to "rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn" (romans 12:15), and your friend's struggle with grief (or mental illness) isn't about your comfort level.

and lastly, be practical, and show up.

i'll never forget how great my friends were when my mom died. i received countless hugs, had cards and flowers mailed to my house, had meals cooked for me, money given to me to cover my bills, and the list goes on, all of which helped a great deal and kept me going during moments i didn't think i could, or had no desire to.

in times like these, my mind often goes back to the story of job. this dude knew pain. he had everything (ten kids, thousands of animals, a ton of servants, and good health), and lost everything just like that.

"when job’s three friends, eliphaz the temanite, bildad the shuhite and zophar the naamathite, (i would totally give them nicknames) heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him. when they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. no one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was" [job 2:11-13]

but then, in chapters four, eight and eleven, job's friends open their mouths, and, in an attempt to find a solution to his pain, start blaming him and his sin for his loss (which, as you'll notice from reading chapter one, isn't the case at all).

take it from their example, don't try and figure life (or death) out, make excuses as to why something is happening to one of your friends, or feel the need to come up with a solution. though job's friend's fell into that trap the second time, they had it right the first; they showed up, felt his pain, and sat with him in it.

and that's all most of us need when we're struggling, too.