My dear child,

I know. Oh, how I know.

Grief is great.

A loved one dies. A friend becomes a traitor. A promise is shattered. A sickness comes for a long visit. A hope is crushed. A dream is extinguished. A lovely era comes to an end, and the next one looks bleak. There seems to be no end to all the things that make people suffer, and every day something new appears that makes people say, "I never imagined something like this would ever happen".

And now it has come to you. Your world has been flipped right-side up. Then there are the questions: "Why me?" "Why now?" "Why did everything have to change?" "What good is this for?" "Why does it have to hurt?" And above all else: "How can I make the pain stop?"

Until now, you have been telling yourself all the things that brought you comfort in the happier times: Aslan will put it all to rights. Aslan does all things good and well. Aslan will not let a thing be wasted. But those are not bringing you comfort now. All they are doing is bringing you pain. And the more you tell yourself all these things, the more you wonder why you are still in pain. And that brings you a new sort of pain, which only makes the rest of your pain grow stronger and deeper.

Even though everything you said about your situation is true, it was never meant to anesthetise you. It was never meant to make you stop feeling altogether. It was meant to give you strength in the middle of your suffering, a strength that you would make you of better stuff than you were before; and it would bring you hope, and with it a real comfort and joy that no suffering would ever destroy. But none of it can happen when you are numb. It can only happen when you confront your pain and look it in the face, knowing that there is no calamity or heartbreak that entered your life by accident.

In time it all will come true, and it will bring you great comfort and joy: I will put it all to rights. I do all things good and well. I will let nothing be wasted. But for now, the best thing to do—the only thing—is the simplest, most painful thing of all:

Feel.

But do not feel alone. Feel it with me. As one of your authors once said, "Love is what you've been through with someone". And I love you so much that I cannot stand to let you feel it all alone. Let me enter into it, and let me walk with you through it. That, dear child, is the best way to grieve.

With everlasting love,
Aslan