Grief has a way of silencing the world, doesn’t it? This week when my grandmother passed, I found myself at that moment when loss crashes through our doors – it demands every ounce of attention, as if time itself gets consumed by the weight of what’s missing. For me, grief has often felt like my heart grew heavy with an unseen weight, pulling me down to depths I wasn’t ready to explore. I’ve found myself asking, “Will this ever get lighter? Will it ever be okay again?” And maybe, like you, I’ve found that the answer wasn’t always clear – right away.

But I’ve learned that grief, while agonizing, is not the end of the story. It’s a season, not the whole lifetime. And it’s not meant to define us—it’s a place we pass through, a necessary storm we endure, but never a destination. “Grief has its season, but it doesn’t define the end.” That’s what I hold onto, what I lean into when the weight feels unbearable.

Naming the Echoes: What Grief Brings to the Surface

In the quiet moments, when the noise of life dies down, grief echos in ways that catch us off guard. It brings things to the surface—old wounds, mistakes, and insecurities we thought we had dealt with already or buried. The memories swirl, and we find ourselves wondering why the same echoes keep repeating. For a long time, I didn’t know how to deal with these echoes. They seemed louder in my grief – as if the loss unlocked every other loss I had ever experienced. Maybe you’ve felt that, too.

The first step is acknowledging those echoes. I’ve found that grief’s power weakens when I name what it’s bringing to the surface. What voices from the past are resurfacing? What regrets, what failures, what fears?

Take a moment and ask yourself, “What things echo in your head and heart most often?” Write them down, share them with a trusted friend, or simply sit with them in God’s presence. When we expose the lies that grief sometimes amplifies, they lose their grip. We take the first step in releasing grief’s power.

The Hidden Gift in the Season of Mourning

There’s something hidden in the season of grief, though we can’t always see it right away. It often feels like we’re walking through a barren land, where every familiar thing seems stripped away. The isolation feels suffocating, like we’ve been forgotten, like God is distant. I know that feeling all too well. But what I’ve come to see is that these seasons of hiddenness—where it feels like all the fruit has fallen off the tree—are often the most transformative.

In these barren places, God is doing a deep work. He doesn’t waste our pain; He uses it to grow something stronger, deeper. Out of 40 years in the wilderness, the Israelites entered their promised land. Out of 40 days in the desert, Jesus began His ministry. What looks like a wasteland to us is often fertile ground for what God is planting within us. It’s in the hidden places where the most miraculous fruit takes root.

What feels barren is often the beginning of something beautiful. And when the storm passes, we find ourselves stronger, more rooted, more capable of bearing fruit than we ever thought possible.

Running Through the Storms: How to Grieve with God

When the storm of grief hits, our natural response might be to run from the pain. It’s easier to numb it, distract ourselves, or pretend we’re fine. But here’s the truth: if we run from the storm, the pain endures. I learned that firsthand. Running away from pain only made it worse, stretching it out longer than necessary. But something shifts when we run into the storm instead—when we allow God to hold us in the middle of it.

It’s terrifying at first. The storm feels like it’s going to swallow you whole. But there’s a promise tucked inside: “If we run into the storm, we will be saved.” God doesn’t leave us to weather the storm alone. He stands with us, taking the brunt of it, shielding us even when the wind howls the loudest. The hardest part is surrendering—admitting that we can’t bear it alone and that we need His help.

When I reached that point, I realized grief wasn’t something I had to overcome on my own. God was asking me to let Him into that space. To grieve with Him. To let Him hold the broken pieces of my heart and slowly, gently, put them back together.

The Great Reversal: Moving From Grief to Joy

Here’s where the story starts to change. God doesn’t just meet us in our grief—He turns it on its head. The great reversal begins. Grief may be the season we’re in, but it isn’t the last chapter. God has promised that joy comes in the morning, that for every season of mourning, there is a season of dancing just ahead. The beauty of it is that He doesn’t wait until we’re completely “healed” to bring joy. Joy can coexist with grief, weaving its way into our lives, one moment at a time.

You see, the enemy of our souls would have us believe that grief is permanent, that the light at the end of the tunnel is a mirage. But I’ve seen it: that light isn’t just real—it’s closer than we think. The grief doesn’t last forever. There is a great reversal coming. And when it arrives, we’ll be surprised at how God took what we thought would break us and used it to build something we never even imagined.

Letting Go: The Road to Healing

I’ll be honest with you—letting go is hard. It’s the part of the journey that most of us dread because it feels like giving up control. But here’s the thing: we’re never in control anyway. Letting go is about surrender, and surrender is where healing begins. It’s about releasing the grip we have on our pain and allowing God to do what only He can do.

I used to believe that healing was something I had to earn, that if I just tried hard enough, if I could fix myself, then I’d be okay. But the truth is, healing happens when we stop trying and start trusting. “Changing oneself is no more our responsibility than it is for a caterpillar.” Our responsibility is to let go, fall apart if we must, and allow the Father to put us back together​.

When we let go, we’re making room for the new life God wants to breathe into us. We’re allowing space for joy to return, for hope to take root, for dreams to come alive again.

Running Towards the Promise

The promise stands: grief will not have the final word. Yes, we mourn, we weep, we feel the weight of what’s been lost—but there is always something ahead. There’s always a promise on the other side of grief. The question is, will we trust God enough to run towards it?

“When God brings something to the surface, He also provides the tools, faith, and strength you need to run it out.”​ This is the truth we hold onto. This is the hope we cling to. Grief may shape us, but it doesn’t define us. God does. And He’s calling us, even in the midst of our pain, to keep running. Because the promise is still here. Joy is still ahead. And we’re never running alone.