One of (many) chapters Dana wrote years ago that spoke to my heart in 2010 and still speaks today, from I Will Change Your Name: Messages From the Father to a Heart Broken By Divorce (Dana Hood; Leafwood, 2007). Used by permission.

Before I walked through the death of my marriage I thought that church would be a place of comfort for a person in grief. What I discovered instead was that church was often the most difficult and painful place to be. I suddenly found myself wanting to avoid Sunday morning—to hide at home because at church there was nowhere to hide.

Often words spoken from the pulpit or written in the church bulletin seemed like a big spotlight shining directly on the parts of my life that weren’t what they were supposed to be And there was nowhere to hide.

It was impossible to pretend when I met the Lord at the communion table. Sharing the body and the blood made me look deep into my soul and there was nowhere to hide.

So why did I keep going? My children. They needed to be there. I couldn’t let what was happening between me and their dad separate them from their church family. One Sunday I was sitting with my daughter. Fortunately she had invited a friend to sit with us so she was focused on her and not on me. I don’t remember why but suddenly I panicked. I had to get out. I looked down the aisle at a friend and she saw the desperation in my eyes. She nodded—a silent message that she would watch my daughter.

I don’t know where I was going. I just wanted to hide. Out of the auditorium. Through the foyer. Down he hall. And then I felt it. A hand on my shoulder. I turned to see the face of one of our church elders. He opened his arms and I fell in. It was for a moment a place to hide. Finally I calmed and he gently led me back into the assembly.

I learned that day that there truly is nowhere to hide from grief except in the arms of the Savior and often His arms take the form of His church.