The Questions Grief Brings

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 guttural honesty it has broken me wide open. She is so vulnerable and transparent, not only in her grief but in her relationship with God. As a mom who has lost a child, grief will often make you question your faith in God, and she does go there with her readers.

During my own journey I found that the question of “Why” can haunt you. And, honestly—would any answer be good enough for us? Although we may never receive an answer to this question on this side of Heaven, I’ve learned to trust in God. It’s what has made me see that in grief, there’s hope for the journey. Our comfort and strength are enhanced as we draw closer to Him.

But “Why?” isn’t the only question grief brings. Another one we can find ourselves asking is, “Where is God in all of this?” Over time, I discovered that even when God feels distant, He is closer than ever. In the moments when I couldn’t pray, He heard my sighs as prayers. When I couldn’t stand, He carried me. His silence never meant His absence—it meant He was working in ways I couldn’t yet see.

Grief also changes how we see others. It makes you more compassionate. Before my daughter ran ahead to Heaven, I thought I was compassionate and caring. However, after she died, I realized there was still much more room for growth. People do and say things to you that simply make no sense. Now that I’m on the other side of the road, I remember saying, “She’s in a better place now,” or “These things happen for a reason.” Today, I cringe as I recall those words. Heaven is beautiful, but wouldn’t we all rather have our loved ones with us? I’ve learned to extend a lot of grace, realizing that people simply don’t know what to say. They don’t mean to inflict hurt—they just don’t know any better.

Grief makes you more intentional. In every facet of life, I’ve become more purposeful. I prioritize time with family and close friends and say ‘no’ to things that don’t align with my values or bring joy. I no longer worry about the small things—once the worst has happened, you realize how much energy we waste on what doesn’t matter.

And then comes another question: “Who am I now?” After loss, we grieve not just our loved one, but also who we were before. I’ve had to learn who I am in this new chapter: still a mother, still a wife, still loved by God, and still held by hope. This same truth holds true for you as well.

Grief has no expiration date. It becomes woven into who we are, and that’s okay. Once we begin to accept this truth, peace can enter our lives once again.