What I Wish I Would Have Known About Grief

Sometimes I take a picture with Payson and wonder if one day it will be my favorite picture with him 🤍   

Then I wonder if that’s a normal thing to think about and realize that it’s probably not.

It’s one of those things you don’t think about until you have left of someone is pictures.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have Payson + a three year old right now and I can’t imagine it.

With Kalea’s birthday just two weeks ago it feels like a good time to share a list of things I wish I would have known / things I’ve learned about grief.

If you’re experiencing loss, grief, or a major transition in life— this is for you:

• You’ll be aware of the bad ways grief has changed you long before you ever see the good.

• There’s no faking it— you can’t be somewhere you aren’t in grief.

• Grieving is individual. Maybe the most personal thing you’ll ever do.

• In the early days, grief doesn’t sleep and neither will you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is sit in the dark and wait for the sun.

• Discard what isn’t helpful. Not everything will apply to you. Not everyone will be a safe person to share your grief with. Not everyone will like the “you” that emerges after loss. You might not even like “you” for awhile.

• Time will feel different- things will move in slow motion. It will feel cruel that life keeps moving. It will feel like betrayal that your heart keeps beating. Then one day, you’ll be glad it did.

• You lost more than a person— you lost a lifetime— a relationship, conversations, memories, milestones—time. Those secondary losses will hit just as hard as the initial loss.

• Grief is the cleanest, purest emotion you’ll ever feel. Grief is literally liquid love. Grief tears are powerful, redemptive, even sacred. If your tears could change things— could bring someone back— they would.

• Sometimes crying will feel cleansing; sometimes you’ll weep with an intensity that will all but rip your soul from your body. If tears could kill you— they would.

• It will amaze you over and over again that grief isn’t fatal.

• Grief will steal your innocence; obliterate your beliefs. You may long for your lost innocence; you may question things you thought you knew.

• You might experience trauma. You might replay things over and over again. Your thoughts might feel stuck, repetitive, or scary. No matter what did or didn’t happen— you’ll feel guilt.

• So many things will fill you with gratitude; so many things will fill you with rage.

• There is no amount of faith that will prevent you from feeling grief. There is no *immediate* balm for this. You might panic when you realize faith is not a painkiller.

• It might feel like you have a cotton ball in your throat when you pray. You might wonder if praying, going to church, or believing in God even matters.

But if I could tell you one thing about life after loss— I’d tell you this—just keep listening.

Your ears can still listen— even when heaven feels silent and unreachable.

• There will be days you’ll never feel closer to God or more loved.

• When they say you’ll never get over it they’re right— but God is also right when He promises to wipe your tears and turn your sorrow into joy.

• Hold space to hurt and space to heal. Know that healing comes in it’s own time and way.

• It’s more important to find the Master than it is to find the meaning.

• Your relationship with God will change.

• Your relationship with other people will change. Some for better, some for worse. Some relationships will end, some will begin.

• You’ll find the people that “get it”.

• You’ll feel connected to people in a way you’ve never experienced before & you’ll find your people.

• Grief will surprise you. Approach it curiously, honestly, and openly. Let it teach you.

• Grief is not linear and it doesn’t end with acceptance. It’s constantly changing. You’ll be over it— and you won’t be. Anger will leave— and come back. So will peace, so will acceptance.

• Write everything down… and then go back and re-read it.

• Rest is important. You’re tired. It’s okay. Expect to be barely functional for a long time. Things will exhaust you quicker than they used to.

• Shake off the “I should feel” and “I should be’s” forever.

• You’ll need people AND you’ll need solitude. Solitude is seriously underrated.

• No one is entitled to your free time. Take all the space and solitude you need. Start saying no…

• …and start saying yes. New growth & new life follows death. Do the things you’ve been putting off and live the life you want to live.

• You’ll never see the things the same way again. Grief is like invisible ink— it was always there spread out across the inky map of the world— you just didn’t see it until now.

• You’ll feel bad for your past insensitively, assumptions, and obliviousness. You’ll say “I was so naive” and “I didn’t get it” a lot.

• You’ll feel older.

• Your soul will age.

• But life will have new depth and your heart will expand. Grief softens and changes you. You’ll find that loss is strangely regenerative— all loss blossoms back into life.

• God is aware of your suffering even when no one else is. Wait on His strength to sustain you & watch for His mercies— they are all around you.

Finally, know that this is really hard. This IS the hardest thing a person can do. You are doing this, you’re doing a really good job, and things really will get better  🤍

And most of all— believe me when I say that THIS IS NOT THE END. You won’t be sad forever & there is so much life ahead.