The faith which 'took these things into account' was not faith but imagination. The taking them into account was not real sympathy. If I had really cared, as I thought I did, about the sorrows of the world, I should not have been so overwhelmed when my own sorrow came. It has been an imaginary faith playing with innocuous counters labelled 'Illness,' 'Pain,' Death,' and 'Loneliness'. I thought I trusted the rope until it mattered to me whether it would bear me. Now it matters, and I find it didn't."
"Bridge players tell me that there must be some money on the game 'or else people won't take it seriously.' Apparently it's like that. Your bid--for God or no God, for a good God or the Cosmic Sadist, for eternal life or nonentity--will not be serious if nothing much is staked on it. And you will never discover how serious it was until the stakes are raised horribly high, until you find that you are playing not for counters or for sixpences but for every penny you have in the world. Nothing less will shake a man (or a woman)--or at any rate a man like me--out of his merely verbal thinking and his merely notional beliefs. He has to be knocked silly before he comes to his senses. Only torture will bring out the truth. Only under torture does he discover it himself." C.S. Lewis in "A Grief Observed"
I find that grieving is painful...so so painful...questions, feelings, thoughts, making sense of other's pain, your own, trying to come to terms with what real, authentic faith looks like and how I am to live by it...separating the thoughts from the feelings, the truth from the lies, the time that grieving takes and the tests...
I find that my house has been blown on and I am still standing. Jesus is real. He is the rock on which I stand...but it doesn't stop the pain from coming, just like losing one's loved.