But perhaps I am not supposed to be. Perhaps the work of grief is not about finding our way back to who we were, but learning how to become who we are now while carrying the love, memories, and losses that have shaped us.

Have you ever felt a wave of frustration when someone has hurt or offended you? In those moments, even when laughter unexpectedly breaks through your sorrow, it can be hard to fully embrace joy. It’s natural to want to stay in that space of feeling wronged or upset. Grief can mirror this complex emotional landscape. We often think grief means being consumed by sadness every moment of every day. If we truly loved deeply, then sorrow should permanently overshadow joy. But grief

There is a quiet distance between who I once was and who I am becoming, a space shaped by love, loss, and a deeper awareness I did not carry

Boundaries help us protect our emotional energy and serve as reminders that it’s okay to prioritize ourselves during this season. They are not about shutting people out but about creating space to breathe, heal, and simply be. My time, emotions, and peace are precious. And it’s okay to protect them with care. During grief, certain areas often need boundaries, especially around privacy, time, emotions, and personal belongings. When there has been tension or conflict in any

Brain Fog and Grief Brain fog can be a significant challenge during grief. When we lose someone we love, the body perceives emotional pain as trauma and instinctively shifts into protective mode. The loss of a loved one affects every area of life, including our physical and emotional well-being. While emotional aspects of grief are often discussed, the physical responses can be just as powerful. According to research, many people experience fatigue, sleep disturbances, and wh

And in both, God was there — not explaining, not fixing, but holding me and whispering that He remains my refuge and strength, my ever-present help in every season. Psalm 23 comforted me then, and it comforts me still. I now offer that same comfort to my sister-in-law. When you attend a funeral, remember that you are stepping onto sacred ground. The person in the front row is not only burying someone they love; they are also burying their life. Grief is not always loud. Somet

Some days, the emptiness feels overwhelming. I trust God, yet I remain human. I grieve. I long for what might have been. I know death does not have the final word and that Jesus conquered the grave, but faith does not erase the ache. It gives me permission to bring my brokenness honestly before God. Scripture reminds me, “See, I am doing a new thing; now it springs up, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:19). I hold onto that promise, even when I cannot yet see the new thing

It feels like everyone is tired right now. Not just physically, but soul-tired—the kind of exhaustion that comes from carrying too much for too long without a safe place to set it down. In 2026, this isn’t the exception; it’s the shared human experience. Grief, anxiety, illness, uncertainty, loneliness—these weights aren’t always visible, but they are felt deeply.