September 2025

When loss first enters our lives, it can feel like the very air has been taken from our lungs. Grief has a way of pressing down so heavily that even the simple act of breathing feels like too much.

Time does not erase the ache of losing a child—it only teaches us how to carry it differently. Yet even in the darkest seasons, I have seen how God begins to move a heart from sorrow to strength, gently leading us toward hope we never thought possible.

When the world rekindles our grief with a news headline, a tragic story, or a violent act it can reopen wounds we thought were finally healing.

Grief can feel like waking up inside a nightmare that doesn’t end when the sun rises. It’s as if time itself slows down, trapping you in moments that others move past easily.

If you’ve ever battled a stubborn illness, you may have heard the discouraging words: “It just needs to run its course.” There’s no quick remedy, only the passage of time. Grief feels much the same. There are no shortcuts or formulas—it’s a journey that unfolds slowly, often far longer than we would like. It’s the slow grace of healing. Loss disrupts everything familiar. The routines we once relied on vanish, leaving us in a landscape that feels foreign and unsteady. We long