In October I came across an intriguing BBC article about the emotional life of an elephant. It was not surprising to read that the accompanying photo had won the 2026 Wildlife Photographer of the Year.

The photographer was following a herd of elephants trudging along a dry riverbed in the Namibian desert last year when he saw a female elephant carrying a stillborn calf, in its trunk. The elephant carried the calf for hours, sometimes setting it down to feed or drink, before picking it up again and continuing her journey.

Strangely, the elephant was not the mother. Apparently, this female elephant, had lost her own calf two years ago. Since then, she has been seen carrying the stillborn calves of other elephants on four separate occasions. No one knows quite what lies behind this behaviour but one theory is that some kind of "emotional processing" is going on – that her behaviour is a way [for her] to process her loss.

This article reminded me that processing grief for myself and for us all takes time. I remember as a teenager at the seaside being knocked under by a large wave – panic sets in as you feel with the tug of the undercurrent. You can’t feel the sand below you. There’s nothing to hold onto. You can’t keep your head above the water.

Grief leaves us floundering. We are low in energy. Anything can spark a sudden poignant memory. Sometimes we are okay, sometimes we’re not okay. My personal experience of grief this year has been very different and more acute than other losses I’ve experienced in the past.

There is no finish line in the journey of grief. There’s no finish line that you cross and suddenly everything is back to normal or moved into a new normal.

But we CAN face these challenges with the comfort of God.

The Bible contains some wonderful poetry that comes from the depths of human emotions, from the heart. We find some heart-rending lines in the book of the Bible that we call the Psalms - poetry written to be sung. Many of them were written by David, a famous King of Israel who lived around 1,000 years before the birth of Jesus. Psalm 61, one of David’s psalms, gives us a deep insight into what to do when we feel overwhelmed.  

We’re not sure what kind of situation David was in at the time. He faced many enemies and setbacks in life, and the loss of a baby. But it is likely that the background to these particular words is betrayal by his very own son who had rebelled against him.

Psalm 61 David cries out to God

1 Hear my cry, O God;
listen to my prayer.

2 From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

David is overwhelmed. His heart is faint, emotional strength has evaporated, he is about to collapse, but he cries out to God because he has past experience of God’s faithfulness to him. So many times in the Bible God is described as a Rock –a symbol of unshakeability, rocklike solidity, something to cling to so that David is not swept away by the uncertainties and losses of life.

David reminds himself of further images that depict his picture of God:

3 For you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the foe.

When I lived in Japan, we had to be earthquake ready – emergency pack at the front door and information in our minds about where the nearest refuge or evacuation centre was. A refuge is a place of safety – your mind will conjure up various images – women’s refuges for those needing a safe place away from domestic abuse. Refugees fleeing war and destruction desperate to find a safe place where there is protection. I recently visited Kenilworth castle near Coventry. It’s partly in ruins but there are still sections of strong tower which speak volumes of the castle’s ability to repel invaders. When we nestle into God, we are protected from the arrows of despair and grief. As one of our church members said to me recently ‘I sit here in the quiet and ask God to take away the pain in my heart.’ She is finding comfort in God her Rock, her refuge, her strong tower.

David’s thoughts in our song poem now turn specifically to seeking God’s protection in another lovely image - that of a mother hen gathering its chicks under its wings.

4 I long to dwell in your tent forever
and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.

Interestingly, David doesn’t ask next to be re-installed on his earthly home but to be enthroned in God’s presence forever. What matters is, not so much human success and fame, but simply being in God’s presence.

7 May he (David is speaking of himself) be enthroned in God’s presence forever; May he be in your presence for ever: appoint your love and faithfulness to protect.

Wherever you may be on your journey of life, whether you are on the journey of faith or not, our prayer is that these timeless words of King David may resonate with us all. That you might turn them into your own prayers and find comfort in the presence of the Lord who loves us and responds to our cries. For myself, since the sudden death of a close family member in January, I have found myself spontaneously praying ‘Lord, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I’ – words from this song-poem. I’ve prayed these words hundreds or maybe thousands of times. And each time is a welcome reminder that I DO have a Rock to cling to, a loving, caring God who is there for me.

May you too know the comfort of his presence.

By Revd Miriam Davis