I’ve often thought that grief can feel like a heavy shadow that refuses to lift. In the early days of loss, it may seem impossible to imagine a future where happiness could exist again. Every breath feels weighted, every step exhausting. Yet even in the deepest valleys, God plants something that has the power to keep us moving forward: hope.

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.

Even though this journey has been the hardest thing I’ve ever walked through, there comes a time when we can choose joy and remember the love more than the loss. Choosing joy means finding moments of happiness in the midst of sorrow, whether it’s a shared memory, or a comforting word. Remembering the love more than the loss involves focusing on the positive impact Melanie had on my life and the lives of others, rather than the pain of her absence.

Although wounds do become scars, those scars become stories. I truly believe we are meant to share our stories with one another. By doing so, they offer hope to others along the way.  

Some say that time heals all wounds, but I don’t believe it. What I do believe is when we walk in faith, God continually heals our broken heart. I believe a scar begins to develop over the open wound in our heart and as time goes by the pain may begin to ease.

Finding solitude during the holiday season is a precious gift we can give ourselves. It allows us to recharge our spirits, gain clarity, and appreciate the beauty of simplicity during the holiday rush. So, as we navigate the joyful whirlwind of the season, let’s remember to embrace the gift of solitude and cherish the quiet moments that nourish our souls.