For many, this is a time of joy and connection. But for those who are grieving, the holidays can be overwhelming and feel like a season we quietly brace ourselves for.

Have you ever found yourself asking questions you never thought you’d ask? Questions that seem to echo into silence—like “Why, Lord?” or “How am I supposed to go on?” The questions grief brings has a way of opening our hearts to things we never imagined needing to ask. I’m currently reading the book, The Girl on the Bathroom Floor . It’s the heartbreaking story of the Smith family who lost their 3-year-old boy in a drowning accident. Amber Smith writes with such a profound gu

Grief has a way of narrowing our vision. In the midst of loss, it can feel as though the world has been drained of color, leaving only shades of sorrow. Ordinary moments that once brought delight may now feel hollow, and the weight of absence overshadows everything else. Yet even in the valley of sorrow, God offers us glimpses of beauty—the power of small joys in grief that whisper hope into our hurting hearts. I remember days when getting out of bed felt like an impossible t

When the loss of someone we love turns our world upside down, and when our faith feels fragile, grief has a way of shaking us at the core. We may find ourselves asking questions we never imagined we’d ask: Where are You, God? Why did this happen? How do I go on from here?

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

Our bodies carry the weight of loss too. Sometimes the heart’s ache is mirrored in aching muscles, a racing pulse, or a fatigue that feels bone-deep. Just as grief is more than one emotion there is a physical side of grief.

Even if it’s hard to believe it right now, as you move forward your heart won’t always feel as tender or your grief as intense as it does in the early days, weeks, and months following a loss. When grief shatters our hearts, choosing joy can feel like an impossible choice.

No matter how long it’s been since my daughter ran ahead to Heaven, I have come to terms with the fact that grief is a lifelong journey. Because of that, I’m always continuing to learn how to live life around it.

No matter the storm, sing. Give thanks. Stare at majesty.

But I discovered that God walks alongside us as we are surviving grief.

If you’re early in your walk with grief, please be assured that the hard, all-consuming heaviness you feel right now does not last forever. In the beginning, grief can feel like a tidal wave, knocking the wind out of you when you least expect it.

Memorial Day is traditionally a time to honor those who gave their lives in military service. But for many, this day holds a deeper, more personal weight. It’s a reminder of every kind of loss—the child gone too soon, the sibling who never came home, the friend whose laughter now only lives in memory.

When we think of all the emotions that come with grief the first one 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 more than one emotion.

As Mother’s Day approaches, our hearts are stirred in countless ways. For many, it’s a day filled with love, laughter, and cherished memories. But for others, it’s also a day tinged with sorrow — mothers grieving the loss of children, daughters mourning the absence of their mothers. It’s a complicated mixture of gratitude and grief, joy and pain. Because of grief, we are changed by loss, held by grace.

Your grief is personal. Your love is sacred. Follow your heart and grieve with grace and courage. Your heart knows the way.

When we are experiencing sorrow due to loss it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. We may question our strength, doubt our purpose, or even feel abandoned by God. But it is precisely in these moments that we are brought face to face with our deepest vulnerabilities.