The Slow Grace of Healing

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 for relief, but discover the only way through grief is simply that—through it.

While time does its work, there are ways we can participate in the healing process. The first is giving ourselves permission to grieve honestly. Every emotion—sadness, anger, numbness—needs space to be felt. Ignoring or suppressing them doesn’t erase the pain; it only postpones the restoration our hearts desperately need.

Second, we can seek connection. Though no one can grieve exactly as we do, allowing others to walk beside us lightens the weight. Whether it’s a trusted friend, a support group, or even journaling our thoughts, these connections remind us that sorrow does not have to be carried alone.

Most importantly, grief teaches us to lean into God’s presence. Even when words fail and we feel misunderstood, He remains nearby. Psalm 56:8 assures us: “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle.” Every tear is noticed, remembered, and treasured by the God who loves us.

Time alone may dull the sharp edges of grief, but time with God brings true healing. His comfort doesn’t erase our loss, but He weaves even our pain into a story of resilience, compassion, and hope. Slowly, the tears become less constant, and the memories that once pierced begin to stir gentle gratitude.

Healing will not look the same for everyone, and the timeline is never predictable. What matters most is this: God walks with us through every step. He is patient with our sorrow, present in our tears, and faithful in His promises. Let time do its work, and let God do His.