A Sacred Season, A Tender Heart

The holiday season comes clothed in glittering lights, familiar hymns, and cherished traditions. It is often spoken of as a season of joy and celebration, rich with togetherness and expectation. Yet for those walking through grief, this sacred season meets a tender heart, and the holidays can feel heavy, quiet, and anything but joyful.

Grief has a way of amplifying everything, and during the holidays, it speaks louder. Every ornament pulled from a box carries a memory. Every recipe stirs the echo of a voice once heard in the kitchen. There is a strange mixture of emotions—moments of genuine laughter followed by sudden tears, sometimes without warning. This happened to me just last night when I ran into an old friend in a busy restaurant. One moment we were hugging and exchanging hellos, and the next moment the conversation shifted to Melanie and I found myself in tears. Grief … it makes itself known at the most unusual times and places.

Memories of time past bring smiles because they were beautiful, and tears because they are no longer attainable in the same way. This emotional dichotomy can be exhausting: holding gratitude and sorrow in the same breath.

For grievers, the pressure to be festive, to participate, to “feel better” can feel isolating. Grief doesn’t pause for holidays, and it doesn’t follow a calendar. Some days the pain is sharp; other days it’s a dull ache beneath the surface. Both are real. Both are valid.

What many don’t see is that showing up at all can take tremendous courage. As a fellow griever, I know we may attend gatherings while silently navigating empty chairs and unspoken names. We may cherish traditions while also resenting how much they hurt. The holidays aren’t just a reminder of what was lost, but of what will never be the same again.

Yet even in the sorrow, there can be tenderness. Love doesn’t disappear with death; it transforms. The tears are often a reflection of deep love, and the memories—though painful they are also proof that something meaningful existed.

Below are three things most grievers would like you to know during the holidays. Feel free to share them:

1. You don't need to fix us. Your presence, patience, and willingness to listen matter more than the right words.

2. It's okay to say their name. Remembering our loved one keeps them close; silence can hurt more than mention.

3. Grief doesn’t ruin the holidays—it reshapes them. Compassion and flexibility mean everything, even if we don’t show it.

Sometimes the greatest gift you can give during the holidays is understanding. In this tender place, we are invited to remember the true heart of the season—the coming of Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us. We do not have to set aside our grief to celebrate Him. Instead, we can hold our sorrow honestly while trusting that Jesus continues to walk with us through the valley, gently carrying what feels too heavy to bear alone.