Why You’re So Tired — And It’s Not Weakness If you are walking through grief and feel constantly tired, please hear this: you are not lazy, unmotivated, or lacking faith. You are carrying something heavy. Grief is not only emotional. It is physical. It is mental. It is spiritual. And it is exhausting. You may experience: Emotional fatigue. Feeling “on” for others drains you. Smiling when your heart aches takes energy. Brain fog. Forgetting appointments. Struggling t

There’s a quiet fear many grievers carry but rarely say out loud. What if healing means I’m forgetting them? What if the tears don’t come as often? What if laughter returns? What if the sharp ache softens? Does that mean my love is fading? For many, the pain feels like proof. Proof that they mattered. Proof that the love was real. And so, without even realizing it, we can cling to the intensity of grief because it feels like staying close. Others fear something differ

To the one who thought you’d be stronger by now — this is for you. This past week held both tender tears and quiet celebration. The tender tears came as I walked through another anniversary of the day my sweet Melanie ran ahead to Heaven. And while time has moved forward, love has not diminished. Grief still whispers her name in the ordinary moments. And scars still speak. But the week was also marked in quiet celebration of the release of my new book, When Scars Become Sto

Feeling left behind after loss is one of the quiet pains many grievers don’t expect. In the early days, support often surrounds us—texts arrive, meals are delivered, and our sorrow is acknowledged. But as time passes, life resumes for others. Conversations shift. Invitations slow. And while the world seems to move forward, we may find ourselves standing still, wondering why our hearts haven’t caught up. You may notice fewer check-ins or sense that people assume you're “doing

Have you found yourself asking, Who am I after loss? When grief changes everything it’s a question many of us find ourselves asking when we thought we knew about ourselves. Loss has a way of quietly rewriting our identity, leaving us wondering whether the person we once were still exists beneath the weight of sorrow.

A few years ago, I realized something that surprised me: the anticipation of the anniversary is often harder than the actual day itself. If you’ve noticed this too, you’re not imagining it—and you’re not failing at grief.

When we think of grief, the first emotion that often comes to mind is sadness. And while sadness is certainly part of the journey, it is far from the whole picture. Grief is not a single note—it is a symphony of emotions, layered and complex, rising and falling in ways that can take us by surprise.

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.