Book Review: Seasons of Sorrow
“The LORD comforts his people.”
Isaiah 49:13
My copy of Tim Challies’ Seasons of Sorrow arrived last Tuesday afternoon and I couldn't put it down until I finished it. This book is a good resource for anyone struggling with grief, but it is a "must read" for any parent or grandparent who has lost a child. With 42 short reflections, Challies traces his grief journey through four seasons, beginning in the fall and advancing through winter, spring, and summer. It ends exactly one year after it began, on the first anniversary of the death of his beloved son Nick.
Tim Challies’ reflections so vividly captured my own questions and struggles as I wrestled with reconciling God's goodness and sovereignty in the middle of our grief, pain, and loss with James Bruce. Much like C.S. Lewis in A Grief Observed, Tim wasn't afraid to ask God hard questions about life, love, and death, but he doesn't leave us there. Instead, he points us to the hope of the resurrection, the hope of heaven, and the comfort of God. Seasons of Sorrow is real, raw, and redemptive, but most of all, it is hopeful of life beyond the grave.
I wept my way through Seasons of Sorrow and felt like I was tracing my own grief journey. It was difficult to pick a “best of the best,” but my favorite chapters are below:
from grave to glory
my manifesto
what do you do with grief?
courage, dear heart
the ministry of sorrow
stewarding sorrow
singing in the dark
how many children do I have?
John Piper once wrote, “Books don’t change people; paragraphs do- sometimes sentences.” I think I will add “chapter titles” to Piper’s list of change agents. Almost every day this week I’ve found myself whispering “courage, dear heart” and found an extra measure of strength.
Here are a few Tim Challies’ sentences that challenged, encouraged, or comforted me as I read:
“Though I will be scarred by Nick’s death, I will not be defined by it. Though it will always be part of my story it will never become my identity.”
“Though I am a writer by trade, though words are my currency, I still lack the ability to express the deep sorrow of losing a child.”
“I know I won’t ever get over it, but I do need to get on with it, for I haven’t received an exemption clause that frees me from what God has called me to.”
“I have learned that grief is often accompanied by fear and amplified by it.”
“God makes many promises and the best of them are for our worst times.”
“God calls some to a ministry of sorrow…He calls some to bear witness to his goodness in grief…The one called to the ministry of sorrow must suffer loss.”
“My grief has advanced from a sharp pain to something more like a dull ache.”
As part of the book launch for Seasons of Sorrows, Tim Challies had an interview on the topic of grief with Pastor Alistair Begg and Bob Lepine. During that conversation, Tim offered some grief tips to those seeking to comfort and help grieving families:
The less said, the better
Bring God’s Words to a grieving parent’s heart
Don’t minimize their grief
The grieving family can’t carry out normal functions
Bring a hot meal at dinner
Not everybody grieves at the same pace
City Alight has written a new song In the Valley (Bless the Lord) after reading an advance copy of Seasons of Sorrow.
In a recent blog post, Tim Challies wrote “What most people need and long for as they face trials and encounter questions is simply the dedicated attention of someone who is a little bit further along, the listening ear and gentle voice of someone who is a few steps ahead on the path of life, or the path of ministry, or the path of suffering, or the path of parenting. Most are merely seeking someone who will informally mentor them from the perspective of their own successes and failures, their own experiences of good and bad, the godly wisdom they have accumulated along the way.”
I am grateful for Tim’s “ministry of being a little bit further along” in his grief journey for he has helped me with my own. I highly recommend Seasons of Sorrow as an excellent grief resource for anyone who is dealing with the loss of a loved one.