Most people think the grieving period is over after the funeral and we should simply pick up the pieces and move on, forgetting our loved ones who are no longer with us. Kind of like “out of sight, out of mind.” But for those walking the journey we know all too well this is just the beginning of a journey filled with many ups and downs. Even if our loved ones are no longer in our sight, they will forever be in our hearts and mind.

August marks International Overdose Awareness Month—a time to remember the precious lives lost to overdose and to stand in solidarity with the families left behind. For many, this month is deeply personal. It’s not just a global observance—it’s a reminder of sons and daughters, siblings and friends, whose stories were cut short by substance use disorder. It’s about honoring lives lost to addiction.

There are no shortcuts through grief. Covering my ears, or covering my heart, only keeps the sorrow at bay temporarily. Feel all the feelings. Cry all the tears—though it seems the more we let them fall, the more they produce. Perhaps we can think of them as holy raindrops.

When tragedy strikes and the dam of sorrow bursts, we are thrust back into a place we thought we had left behind. The ache is raw, and the grief feels new, even if it’s old. What do we do?

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.

As time moves forward it’s quite natural that others around us seem to forget that we are still missing a big piece of our hearts. I don’t blame them for forgetting. It’s not until a piece of our heart is no longer with us that it hits home.

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

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

I’m sure you’ve heard that grief is like the ocean—vast, deep, and ever-changing. One moment, the waters are calm, and you find a sense of peace as memories gently brush the shore of your heart. The next moment, without warning, a storm rolls in, and you’re overwhelmed by crashing waves of sorrow and longing. It doesn’t follow a schedule or respect the passage of time. It simply is—a force of nature that becomes a part of us.

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.

Jesus, who wept at Lazarus’s tomb, understands loss. He is not distant from our sorrow; He enters into it with us.

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.

Hold your memories close. Treasure each one. Spend time with the people you love while you still can.

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

This week marks Melanie’s 6th birthday in Heaven. Another birthday, another year gone by without her. Is it easier? In some ways, yes. I no longer feel the extreme heaviness of grief that I felt in the earlier years, but it’s still hard. The missing never ends and I never expect it will.

When we face the loss of a loved one, a broken relationship, or another life-altering event, our world is turned upside down.

Secondary losses are the additional effects of a primary loss. When we experience grief, these secondary losses can blindside us. We may expect to mourn the death of our loved one, but the way that grief expands—touching every aspect of life—can be unexpected and overwhelming.

Our grief is not linear. Some days, we feel overwhelmed by sadness; other days, we can laugh, smile, and find happiness in the smallest moments.

But living without hope is impossible. Hope is our oxygen. It’s the fuel that keeps us going when times are tough, giving us the strength to press on through the challenges we face during loss, and the vision to dream of better days.