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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.