Surviving Grief

  Overwhelmed by Cardboard and Memories July 22 Blog Post – Surviving Grief with Dyan Packing up my life is more complicated than I thought it would be.  It's only been two years since I left Montana, but in many ways, it feels like a lifetime ago—and yet somehow, like yesterday. This week, I found myself back in the basement, opening boxes that had remained untouched since the day we moved. We were in a hurry back then, trying to hold everything together. So the packing was rushed, quick, just "get it done." And now here I am, face to face with the forgotten. 📦 Opening the Boxes of the Past Inside one box were photographs I hadn't seen in years. In another, a bundle of cards I had sent to my parents—some handwritten, filled with love and daily news I thought they'd want to hear. I found souvenirs from their trip to Hawaii three decades ago. A little yellowed, a bit bent, but full of memories of a simpler time, when they were alive and smiling under the sun. ...

🕊️ Temporary Separation: Holding On to the Promise of Reunion  I know well there is no comfort for this pain of parting: the wound always remains, but one learns to bear the pain, and learns to thank God for what He gave, for the beautiful memories of the past, and the yet more beautiful hope for the future.  —MAX MÜLLER 🙏 Holding On to the Promise of Reunion “In today’s Healing After Loss , Martha shares the story of a woman who lost her young daughter. Rather than viewing death as the end, she holds tightly to the promise of reunion. Her grief is shaped by faith—rooted in the belief that this is just a temporary separation.” That word— temporary —keeps echoing in my soul. 💔 The Ache That Still Rises Faith like this doesn't remove the ache. It doesn’t stop the tears or quiet the emptiness that arrives without warning. But it gives that ache a purpose . It gives us something to cling to on the hardest days. Today, as I wrote about Mark and my life, the loss hit harder than ...

🌧️  Coming Through the Storm — Even When It Hurts "I will use all my wisdom and power to come through this well." Today, that line felt like a whisper from deep inside me. A reminder that even when I feel weak, I am not empty. Even in pain, I still have something left. Grief is tearing at me again. I miss his presence so deeply — it feels like a physical weight. I keep listening, hoping to feel him near. But the silence echoes. And yet, I'm here. Still breathing and still writing. Isaiah 40:29 says, "He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak." That's what I'm leaning on today. The wisdom God has poured into me through love, loss, and faith. The power that lives in my soul, even when I don't feel strong. I don't have to "fix" my grief. I have to live through it. Trusting that even this pain is part of a process. A birthing of something more profound. Something sacred. 💔When the Grief Hits Hard Again Today hurts...