Healing After Loss

A Catalyst for Growth

Nature is Healing

The concept of "healing" is often associated with physical injuries, where the process is easily observable—a cut that scabs over, a bone that mends. However, what does healing honestly look like when the wounds are emotional, invisible, or spiritual, especially after experiencing the profound loss of someone through a tragedy like suicide?

Grief isn’t akin to a cold or a headache that we simply "get over." It resides deep within us, influencing our being and shaping who we are. The journey of healing through grief isn’t about erasing memories or moving on; it's about learning to carry the love, the sorrow, and the lessons in a way that empowers us rather than holds us back.

Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D., beautifully expresses this sentiment: "The experience of grief is powerful. So, too, is your ability to help yourself heal. In doing the work of grieving, you are moving toward a renewed sense of meaning and purpose in your life."

Each of us has something we are healing from, yet many of us haven’t received the guidance or support to navigate this process with patience, kindness, and understanding. So, what does healing look like in grief?

There is no single "right way" to heal; it is a deeply personal process that differs from person to person. The journey may start with exhaustion that feels overwhelming and never-ending. One day, it might appear as a comforting silence, while the next could bring a flood of tears. Healing can be expressed through creative activities, such as art or writing, walking in nature, acts of kindness like volunteering, or simply focusing on getting through each day. And that variety is not just okay; it is entirely normal.

When Kevin was first diagnosed with clinical depression, he also sought healing in the natural world. Together, we planted a garden in the spring, took long walks through arboretums, jogged in local parks, and hiked forest trails. Now, years later, my husband and I still find peace and tranquility in places that feel like heaven on earth. Lakes, waterfalls, mountains, and botanical gardens call to us. They invite us to breathe, pause, and remember that life continues to unfold with beauty and grace. Nature restores wonder to our lives. It pulls us away from pain and into the present. It reminds us that after the harshest winter, something green and alive will always emerge again.

Recently, I completed training to become a hospice volunteer, a step I could have never envisioned taking before the loss of Kevin. It’s interesting how healing can come from being present for others during their final days and offering support to families in sorrow. This act of service honors my journey, showing me that I may not have all the answers, but I can indeed be a compassionate presence. This is what healing represents for me.

Your grief is one-of-a-kind, just like the person you loss. No two people, even those closest to the same individual, like spouses, siblings, or parents, will grieve in identical ways, as each relationship is unique.

In our experience of losing Kevin, my husband and I found different paths to healing. His way differs from mine, and that's perfectly fine. Your healing journey will be shaped by who died for you, the circumstances around that loss, your beliefs, and the support system you have. It’s important not to compare your grief journey to anyone else’s. Each path is unique and takes its form, and there is no set timeline for grief. Take your time—one moment, one breath at a time. You are exactly where you need to be in your growth.

People often wonder, "Where is God in all of this?" I believe we’ve all pondered this, especially during times of deep despair. Just the other day, during my morning devotion, a memory of Kevin came to me so strongly that it broke my heart. I felt overwhelmed with pain, cried out to God, and was filled with many "whys."

“Why my son?

"Why this pain?

"Why didn’t You do something?”

Even in that moment of anguish, a part of me recognized that this, too, is part of healing. Crying doesn’t mean I’m losing control; it signifies a connection to something higher. Healing unfolds when I can pour out my questions, my grief, and even my anger to a God who can encompass it all. “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in Your bottle.” —Psalm 56:8.

Spiritual healing isn’t about having unwavering faith; it’s about bringing my broken heart to God, trusting He is present, even in silence. My personal beliefs don’t exempt me from the need to discuss or explore my feelings. Sometimes, healing involves reflecting on scripture. Other times, it’s found in quiet solitude or deep sobs until tears stop flowing. I cling to the comforting words from Psalm 34:18: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

In many ways, the losses that leave us devastated can become our greatest teachers. They teach us how to let go, accept the emptiness, and find the strength to love again, even after loss.

Healing from grief doesn’t usually come in a dramatic moment but often happens gradually as we go through our daily routines and process our emotions. You might notice that an experience that once caused you to spiral now triggers a calmer response. You don't forget or stop caring; instead, you find peace with your new normal. Sometimes, you may catch yourself saying, "It is what it is," as you handle life’s changes. That moment of acceptance marks a significant step in your healing process.

Will you choose to hide your scars or wear them proudly as a symbol of strength and resilience? A testament that says: “I have loved. I have lost. I am still here. I am continually evolving through my grief.” In truth, grief will always be a part of us, not as a burden, but as a gentle reminder of love. It's about choosing to remember the love instead of being solely anchored by pain. That is healing!